The Times is running a series of articles where major thinkers elucidate on what they believe life will be like in 1980. The series started with Arthur Koestler (philosopher most known for his Orwellian novel, Darkness at Noon) who predicts that, in the Britain of 1980, Mediocracy will be the order of the day.
Arthur Koestler by David Levine
By this he means that instead of having a meritocratic system, defined by IQ plus effort, the main ingredients of life will be common sense plus inertia. Institutions will continue in modified forms without revolutionary change. Politicians are more likely to be dentists than demagogues. The family structure will continue but divorce and extramarital relationships will be commonplace. Housewives will have “bugs”, small time-saving robots, to do their household tasks, but they will breakdown so frequently the repairman will be a regular guest.
On a more positive note, he foresees the removal of private cars from cities, to be replaced by automated electric vehicles for hire. Office work will be done from home, with tactile simulators introduced to ensure people do not feel deprived of physical contact. Education will begin shortly after birth and young people will be encouraged to engage in more out-there behaviour before settling into mediocre adulthood.
We will have to wait another decade to see if his predictions come true. But, if the latest Vision of Tomorrow is any sign of things to come, mediocrity is certainly on the horizon.
Vision of Tomorrow #3
Cover art by Eddie Jones
Yes, I am also still waiting for issue #2. I am assuming there was some hiccough at the printers.
In his editorial, Harbottle continues to outline his vision for the magazine. Firstly, stories must be “entertaining”, secondly, they should not contain sex. New Worlds this is not!
Let’s see how this translates into prose.
Shapers of Men by Kenneth Bulmer
Illustrated by Eddie Jones
Once again, Mr. Bulmer opens the magazine with an adventure tale. This one, we are told, marks the start of a new series. Fletcher Cullen, “galactic bum”, travels across the stars wherever the loot and action take him. In this opening installment, Cullen’s flier is shot down over Sitasz and he finds himself in the middle of a conflict between the humans and the natives.
Illustrated by Eddie Jones
This is a rather old-fashioned kind of interplanetary tale with some attempts at modern touches. Cullen is an untrustworthy rogue, miles away from Flash Godon or Clark Kent, the Sitazans are a well-constructed alien race and there are attempts to bring in modern frames of reference like LSD.
However, it is really boring to read. Generally each chapter will spend most of the time in overwrought descriptions and dull exposition, then a quick escape, followed by a capture by someone else. Even Bulmer’s amusing similes are like fish and guests, starting to smell off after the third time.
A low two stars
Number 7 by Eric C. Williams
Frederick Hasty, technical overseer of demolitions in London, is called to Number 7, Good Peace Road, in New Cross. Its destruction is a necessary part of the rationalization of London currently taking place. Unfortunately, the property is surrounded by an impregnable invisible barrier.
A reasonable little mystery but one that does not amount to very much.
A low three stars
Science Fiction in Germany by Franz Rottensteiner
A one-page summary of the SF scene in both Germanies, covering Perry Rhodan, Utopia Zukunftsromane, translations, fanzines and conventions.
It does the job it intends to but it is not as good as Cora’s coverage.
Three stars
People Like You by David Rome
Illustrated by B. M. Finch
Gail and Gordon Coulton, and their daughter Dorinda, are staying in a holiday home overlooking Cody Canyon when they notice some of their property has been taken. They suspect it is their neighbour, George Abbot. But what could he want with these items?
I was reminded of The People stories, but Rome is no Henderson. It is enjoyable enough, with a nice twist in the tail, but nothing special.
Three Stars
The Impatient Dreamers Part 3: Shadow of the Master by Walter Gillings
With us still waiting for the intervening issue, we skip to the third of Gillings articles, looking here at the emergence of British SF writers and publications in the 1930s, along with his efforts to establish more SF fan clubs.
This continues to be a brilliant series casting a spotlight on an area of SF development I rarely see discussed.
Five Stars
Pioneers of Science Fantasy
Some special colour reprints and short looks at big names in the history of the genre. A kind of supplement to the prior article.
Fantasy Review
Ken Slater reviews the latest E. C. Tubb interstellar adventure, Escape Into Space. Apparently, it is a disappointment, lacking character and convincing explanations.
Speaking of Tubb, this tale tells of Frank Weston, a morgue attendant who manages to get his hands on a ring of The Special People. These rings are a kind of portable time machine, allowing him to reverse time over a short period. Frank uses it to get rich and powerful, but can it really give him everything he desires?
A pretty standard tale of this type, well told. Once again Ted lands straight in the middle.
Three Stars
The Adapters by Philip E. High
Illustrated by Gerard Alfo Quinn
Roger Pryor is a fugitive from The Invaders. Five years ago, people started falling down totally incapacitated when touched by them. They are huge beings invisible except in very specific temperatures and lighting. They continually tell him they are here to help and rescue him, but what can their real agenda be?
A tense and evocative piece. Not the most original but enjoyable enough to bump it above the general chatter.
A low four stars
The Nixhill Monsters by Brian Waters
Whilst travelling across the Australian outback Alice and Graham swerve to avoid a strange creature, like a glowing transparent humanoid. Stopping in the nearby town they are curious to know more, the townspeople however are determined to kill the monster.
This feels to me like a middle-of-the-road episode of The Twilight Zone, overly simple moral and all. Whilst fairly competently constructed it feels strange that everyone here quickly accepts the existence of an alien, but also wants to murder her simply because she looks weird.
Two stars
World to Conquer by Sydney J. Bounds
Illustrated by BM Finch
With the Earth devastated by radiation poisoning, humanity is desperately searching for a new habitable planet to live on. When they finally find the world of Asylum, it is already occupied by the intelligent Fliers. Leo Crane is sent to meet the inhabitants, to discover how easily they can be exterminated.
Whilst some parts of this are very old-fashioned (Marie’s “I’m a woman” speech is particularly excruciating), I found the scientific concepts involved interesting and the question raised about how humanity treats the worlds it finds worth pondering. By the end you want to ask if we would really have the right to survive?
Evens out at a high Three Stars
Prisoner in the Ice by Brian Stableford
Illustrated by BM Finch
After centuries of battling the encroaching ice, the Earth is finally starting to warm up. On one of these ice sheets three men discover a saber-toothed tiger, frozen in mid-leap.
A much more philosophical story than I was expecting from these pages. The tiger and ice melt are really just metaphors, the main thrust of this piece is a discussion about what people become when they fight to survive. Do they become the winners or merely leftovers?
Interesting to compare and contrast with the previous story.
Four Stars
A Dentist’s Waiting Room
An unusual final image from Dick Howett previewing issue #4
So perhaps common sense and inertia are the tools behind Visions of Tomorrow. I feel like little here would be out of place ten years ago, but it is generally competent. Only the Bulmer I found to have any structural flaws.
Whether this middle of the road approach will work in the long run remains to be seen. Being unobjectionable but unremarkable is not necessarily going to get people to drop their 5 shillings for the next issue. As the architect of the NHS Aneurin Bevan said:
We know what happens to people who stay in the middle of the road. They get run over!
Join us on August 29 at 7pm Pacific Daylight Time for the first edition of Science Fiction Theater—every week, we'll broadcast an excellent show or two, accompanied by fanzine readings and, of course, with commercials!
By Mx Kris Vyas-Myall
In general, there is a certain patriarchal attitude us Brits have towards the Commonwealth. We assume we will be the mother country that will be investing in and helping out the former colonies. Yet recent evidence suggests the opposite is true. And now we see it in publishing with the plan to rescue The Sun newspaper by 37-year-old Australian entrepreneur Rupert Murdoch.
Australian press-magnate, Rupert Murdoch
Back in 1964, the Daily Herald was Britain’s 4th biggest selling newspaper, with a specific interest in advancing the trade union movement. However, it was still losing money as its readership were generally older and of lower income—not the audiences advertisers wanted. The paper was folded and replaced by The Sun, designed to appeal to the “steak-eating weekenders” of the aspirational working class. However, this did not end up reviving its fortunes and International Publishing Corporation was losing £2m a year on the paper. As such they have declared they need to sell or shutter it by January 1970.
Also in 1964, Rupert Murdoch, having inherited News Ltd. from his father in 1954, launched Australia’s first national newspaper, The Australian, to compete with the established state papers. He got the local papers he controlled to move away from “stodgy” local news items, into human interest and television interests. This all led to the company’s profits rising from £30k to £1.2m. But he continues to have ambitious plans for expansion.
Having already beaten out Paul Maxwell to take over the weekly News of the World at the start of the year, the acquisition of The Sun will mean he has a daily publication under his belt. What he will do with it remains to be seen but sensationalism may be the order of the day. His News of the World has already attracted controversy by publishing extracts from Christine Keeler’s memoirs.
Whatever the fate of these papers, another collaboration has interested me. That between Australian publisher Ronald E. Graham, and British editor Philip Harbottle. United by their love of John Russell Fearn, they have put out a new Science Fiction magazine, Vision of Tomorrow.
Vision of Tomorrow #1 Cover by James
In spite of initial reports, this will not contain any John Russell Fearn reprints (a secondary magazine may be produced for that purpose in the future) rather “Vision” is dedicated only to publishing new stories by British and Australian authors, along with new translations of European authors.
In contrast to the semi-professional style of Alien Worlds or the arthouse feel of New Worlds, this feels like a traditional professional magazine. One that could sit in the racks happily beside Analog and Galaxy, albeit a 64 page slick, rather than the advertised 196 page pocket book. But what is inside?
The New Science Fiction by Philip Harbottle
In his editorial for the magazine, Harbottle sets out his stall. He declares that this magazine will deal with humanity trying to adapt to the increasing pace of change. Personally I think this sounds rather similar to what Gold was attempting in Galaxy in the 50s.
Swords for a Guide by Kenneth Bulmer Illustrated by G. Alfo Quinn
As the sole member of the Kenneth Bulmer Fan Club [Not quite true—Jason Sacks likes him, too! (ed.)], I was excited to see he would be leading the magazine. Here Jeffrey Updike Grant is a Captain in the Guides, a kind of Galactic Administration military force, but one trained only to use weapons equivalent to the technological level of the alien planets they are on. When he is stationed on New Bangor, an uprising takes the Guides by surprise.
After a distress call is sent out, it is answered by local freetraders (read smugglers) who have no truck with the rules on technological advances. Whilst they initially push the Bangorians back, they are eventually overpowered and their atomic weaponry ends up in the hands of the natives. With the natives now aware that the Guides are not from this world and in possession of advanced weaponry, the chances of survival for the Terrans are slim. Their only hope is to travel down river to the largest settlement, with the natives hunting them.
Illustrated by G. Alfo Quinn
Whilst I usually enjoy Bulmer’s work, this is not his standard fare, more a Victorian Boys-Own adventure, with lots of action and heavy descriptions, but not much depth. There is possibly some critique of colonialism at the end, but this work primarily seems designed to appeal to those that lament the loss of a “sense of wonder” in SF today. I am not one of those people.
Two Stars
When in Doubt – Destroy! by William F. Temple Illustrated by G. Alfo Quinn
Pathfinders Cordell & Marston are surveying the Pluto-esque Scylla-8, awaiting a much-delayed supply ship. Instead, a robot named Mark 1105 appears. It tells them it has captured their ship along with a previous survey mission, and they will be imprisoned, without food or water, until they answer its questions about humanity.
This has a great moody sense of doom penetrating throughout and it has interesting ideas about psychology. Unfortunately, I found it let down a bit by using a very old and silly cliché to battle a robot.
Three Stars
Anchor Man by Jack Wodhams
Tirk and Ken are members of the experimental EPD, where psychic impressions of objects and people are used to investigate police cases. Mary Pantici, a prostitute, is found murdered in a sound proofed flat with no witnesses and the EPD is brought in for the first time on a case like this. Ken is indeed able to get an impression of the murderer. However, his gift leads him to the conclusion that the killer is a police officer, one who has mental abilities of his own.
Given Wodhams’ regular sales to Analog, and the centrality of ESP to the tale, I can’t help but wonder if this was meant for Campbell but was rejected because of the grimmer elements. Whatever its origin this is a reasonable update of the occult detective story, well told but with a bit of a limp denouement for me.
Three stars
The Vault by Damien Broderick
Dr delFord, a logician, is awoken at 3am and taken on a secret flight. His old friend Gellner reveals to him that, under the lunar crater Tycho, an ancient buried computer complex has been discovered.
Much of it seems to have been destroyed in a nuclear attack; however, they are able to deduce from a map the location of two other alien bases. One at the bottom of the Atlantic and one under Ayres Rock. It is to the latter one that delFord is flown. The titular Vault inside Uluru does not allow any electronic equipment in and so far has resulted in the deaths of 173 people trying to enter it.
With a new protective suit, delFord has one hour to try to work a way in, discover all he can and make it out alive.
It has become fashionable of late to claim every piece of mythology or construction project before 1945 is secretly the work of aliens (see, for example, Chariots of the Gods?). This sits within that genre. Not bad per se, but I feel that it could easily be made into an unremarkable episode of Star Trek or Doctor Who.
Three Stars
Sixth Sense by Michael G. Coney Uncredited illustration
This short story comes from a new writer who recently debuted in the pages of New Writings. Jack Garner is a publican who possesses a sixth sense others don’t. He recalls a summer three years before when a quarrelling family came to stay and how he made use of his unusual ability to help them.
The actual plot is fairly thin, being the kind of tale you would read as the text feature in an adventure comic, padded out with mind-reading sections. In addition, there are leering descriptions of a 14-year-old girl’s body from the point of view of our 37-year-old narrator. Less than this got Mr. Hedges branded a pervert by the local community in an episode of Please, Sir!.
One Star
Consumer Report by Lee Harding Uncredited illustration
Previously one of Carnell’s crew, he wrote one of my favourite short stories of the decade, The Liberators, but I haven’t seen anything from him in a few years.
Crossing the spaces between galaxies the self-proclaimed Lords of their universe come on a mission of conquest, but they find only dead planets. What could have caused this?
Thankfully, this is not one of those awful John Brunner vignettes we usually see in Galaxy. Instead, Harding gives us a serviceable but unremarkable piece of space horror.
Three stars
Are You There, Mr. Jones? by Stanislaw Lem
This is a work from a leading Polish SF writer (translated by Peter Roberts) representing his first appearance in English. It tells of the legal case of Mr. Jones, a race car driver who has replaced parts of his body with cybernetics following various accidents. He has been unable to pay his debt for them and, indeed, claims they are faulty so he should not have to. However, a previous court ruled he could not have them removed as it would kill him.
As such the Cybernetics Company tries a new tact, arguing that as so much of him is replaced, he is no longer human and they are merely recovering their property.
I have heard from continental friends that Lem is already well liked in Germany and France, and this showed me why. This is only a short vignette but addresses fundamental questions in a concise and amusing manner.
Four Stars
The Impatient Dreamers Part 1: First Encounters by Walter Gillings
The editor of the first British SF magazine begins a history of 20th Century British Science Fiction. A largely auto-biographical piece, this opening section tells of the early days of British fandom in the 20s and 30s, talking of the influence of imported American magazines, short lived fandom, Edgar Rice Burroughs books, BBC Radio dramas and the film Metropolis. An interesting and pleasant introduction to an era before I was born.
Four Stars
The Shape of Things To Come Coming next time
In spite of Harbottle’s introduction discussing the New Science Fiction, this is quite a traditional selection of stories, although generally solid ones. It is certainly no worse than we see from If or Analog and the one weak piece being from a new author I hope we can see more of.
As such, I am excited to see more of this collaborative exercise. Bring on the second issue.
Two very different novels by women fell into my hands this month. Just about the only thing they have in common is a downbeat mood. Even that, however, is treated in highly dissimilar ways by the authors. Let's take a look.
Anonymous cover art. Woman running away from a mansion that has a light in one window? Must be a Gothic Romance.
The setting is Connecticut in 1895. The narrator is a nineteen-year-old woman named Cassandra whose mother has just died. Her father died soon after her birth, and she spent almost of all of her life in boarding school. Returning for her mother's funeral, she is dismayed by the fact that the only other mourners are her mother's second husband, who left her some years ago, and her mother's faithful Gypsy companion.
Her mother had the ability to predict the future. The villagers thought of her as a witch. Adding to their superstitious fear was a mysterious light that appeared in the sky at the time of her death.
Cassandra (an appropriate name, as we'll see) settles into the family home with the Gypsy and her stepfather. In true Gothic fashion, she wanders into the cellar in order to investigate a noise, only to barely escape being strangled by an unknown assailant. It soon turns out that Cassandra also has precognition, which she considers to be a curse rather than a gift.
Other Gothic elements include a séance conducted by the Gypsy, a secret room in the mansion, and a murder. Since this is also a Romance, we have a handsome young stranger show up.
The novel definitely follows the pattern of a Gothic Romance. Fans of that genre, or of the Gothic soap opera Dark Shadows will find it satisfactory, if less than original. It's a quick, easy read, suitable for light entertainment of an enjoyable spooky nature.
The narrator is a young man named Pelham, known as Pel. He is also called Rat. In a dystopian near future, he and his father run their home as a combination boarding house and brothel. His cousin Frijja shows up, having barely survived a brutal attack. You see, the aliens told him to take her in.
The aliens? Yes, it seems that gigantic extraterrestrial spaceships hover over the British Isles. A force field isolates the inhabitants from the rest of the world, leading to a breakdown in society. The aliens send messages to people in the form of small talking spheres, something like ball bearings. Failure to obey their orders leads to disintegration.
The aliens put various parts of London under the control of gangs, some Communist and some Fascist. Early in the book, Frijja defends the home from an invasion by the Fascists in a violent way. That doesn't prevent them from taking over pretty soon anyway.
The other major character is Connor, one of the Fascists. Pel is obsessed by him, although he tells the reader that it's not in a sexual or romantic way. (Frankly, methinks the fellow doth protest too much.) In turn, Connor is obsessed by Frijja. This triple relationship is complicated, blending love and hate in strange ways. It's also the heart of the book.
Without going into the myriad plot complications, let's just say that this unlikely trio goes on an odyssey through a transformed England. Along the way we get more violence, rape, sexual blackmail, and cannibalism.
This is a very grim book, as you can tell, although it's also got moments of bitter humor. Despite the aliens, who never show up in person, it's much more like A Clockwork Orange than Childhood's End. The narrative style is dense and eccentric, so this is a book that requires careful reading.
I usually love writing for this column. I have tremendous fun exploring the work of promising new writers, or obscure works to which I can provide some attention, or even to celebrate the work of an acknowledged science fiction master.
But it provides me no joy to discuss The Three Faces of Time by Frank Belknap Long.
Mr. Long, born in 1901, has a long and distinguished career in science fiction and horror. He's published dozens of books which often sit in the uneasy and unsettling boundary between science fiction and horror. His many short stories were foundational in the golden years of the classic Weird Tales pulp, often sitting side by side in a given issue next to his close friend H.P. Lovecraft and exploring similar mythos and settings.
I frankly love the classic work of Messers. Long and Lovecraft for their gothic, creeping horrors and their inescapable dark energy.
But that work was released 30 plus years ago, and I'm sad to say that Mr. Long, now well into his Social Security years, is no longer the writer he used to be. Or, more accurately, he's too much like the writer he used to be.
The Three Faces of Time is, frankly, a bore. The writing is turgid, characters are wafer thin, and the plot simply refuses to become interesting.
A flying saucer has landed in a small suburban town. When people go to investigate the thunderous sound the spaceship makes, they become lost in a maze of incomprehensible pathways and confusing signposts, which all serve to alienate all the people from their environments.
We follow Susan Wentworth as she tries to find her husband and her children in such a space, where she does eventually catch up with the family – and some mysterious aliens. The strange creatures then transport the humans thousands of years into the future in search of some sort of truth about human immortality – or something like that. I think that's what happened; my attention kept wandering as I tried to make my way through endless thickets of run-on sentences, inhuman dialogue and exhausting conceptual obtuseness.
This would be a fun book in the hands of a more modern writer like Ellison or Brunner, who would highlight the confusion or the characters' existential doubt. Dick would have made the leads more full of angst, and LeGuin would have chonicled the beauty of the aliens' worldview. But Long is not of the newer generation. He reads like a man who's 68 years old and who time, sadly, has left behind.
After my frustrating experience with Mr. Long's book, I was anxious for something that felt fresh, breezy and contemporary.
The Wizards of Senchuria by Kenneth Bulmer was just what I needed.
I've had mixed experiences in the past in reading Mr. Bulmer's fiction. But this book was pure joy for me.
Senchuria is a breezy and bright story. It's a kind of updated version of the high-adventure stories which accompanied work by Lovecraft and Long in the old pulps, but updated for a more modern audience.
Scobie Redfern is a guy in his 20s on the way home from a game of tennis at a Lower Mahattan gym on a cold and snowy night. Scobie calls a cab, but at the same moment another man jumps into the taxi with him. The cabbie talks them both into sharing the vehicle, but quickly odd things start happening. Scobie catches a glimpse of a strange creature who seems to attack the car, and when his fellow passenger persuades Scobie to stop for a drink, a burger, and an explanation, so begins the wildest experience of Scobie's life.
Scobie soon finds himself in an adventure he hardly could have imagined, involving strange portals, terrifying creatures, love, hate, fear, battles on a grand scale, and the kind of nonstop adventurous life that would make a Robert E. Howard character feel exhausted.
This is one of those books where each chapter ends in a cliffhanger before the tension and silliness of the story rachets up even further, a wild, high-tension ride which gets much of its power from the reader wondering how much longer Bulmer can sustain his high-wire act.
Rest assured that everything in Kelly Freas's delightful cover actually happens in the book!
Maybe this book hit me so hard because I was so disappointed in the F.K. Long book above, but this was a thorough delight. The Wizards of Senchuria won't contend for a Hugo, but it's a nearly perfect half of an Ace Double.
Author Margaret Atwood and I are nearly the same age (she has a couple years on me). But she has published 5 books of poetry, and written a libretto–so far–and I'm sure she'll keep ahead of me. She has also just published this, her first novel. I've been wanting to read her work, especially since it (a) smacks of feminism at first glance, and (b) was written by a native of Canada, a country to which my husband and I aspire, and which we may yet reach as we slowly move north.
by John Schoenherr
I am a proud Stanford University alumna thanks to that university’s help finding me the money to go to school (student loan, job). As I understand it, the faculty have always believed that the school is not just there to teach about what students are going to do in life, but also help them discover what kind of person they will become. Clearly, as far as Atwood’s fictional alumna, Marian, is concerned, the school she attended (University of Toronto by the geographical and environmental clues) failed on both counts.
She is lost and feels formless, trying to understand what is required of her and fit into the molds offered. Every now and then she attempts to escape, finding some ease from the pressure of becoming a woman in today's society by running off the rails.
People in her life are mostly in a similar state of becoming and are extremely puzzled when she tries to run away–with one exception, a man she seeks without realizing she is looking for him. Clearly he has run off the rails himself and is possibly dangerous. But for Marian, sometimes danger is preferable to the destination of the tracks, perceived by her as motherhood (of which she is frightened) within marriage (although her roommate is at first set on motherhood alone), a job that is boring and expected to disappear with marriage, a life as a consumer of products such as girdles (worn by "vulcanized" women), and meals of real-life, killed animals.
Starting with strong reactions to types and cuts of meat reminiscent of the living beast, she begins crossing foods off her list of possible edibles as she tries to stay the course to the arms of her fiancé and their upcoming wedding. In a supermarket she “resents” the music because she knows it is only there to lull consumers like her into a euphoric state in which they will buy anything; her own fingers twitch to reach away from the market basket and pick up something–anything–with a "bright label." (I particularly identify with this: not only do I dislike the music itself, but I wish they would leave my mind alone, and I start talking to the speakers and gloomily thinking about bringing wire cutters and stair steps to the store.) After awhile, most foods are eliminated from her diet until she makes something she can eat.
Atwood’s book is funny with a dark humor, growing darker and funnier as Marian’s story unfolds. I give it 5 stars. Beautifully done.
The Biblical book of Revelations foretells of the final battle between Good and Evil. In this second book by Mark S. Geston (author of Lords of the Starship, which seems to be something of a prequel), Armageddon was just the first of climactic battles, subsequent ones being told of in the Book of Survivors, the Book of Eric, the Dialogues of Moreth. Thousands of years later, the diminishing forces of Earth, spurred on by crusading fury, continue to clash. The last ships, the remaining aircraft, the pitiful remnants of humanity are all drawn, sooner or later, to fight what will hopefully be the last fight at "The Meadows."
Born into this world is Amon VanRoarke, an aimless naif who finds motivation when the prophet Timonias comes to town on an ancient, motor-powered merchantman. The holy man's words fill VanRoarke with the urge to sail to The Meadows, not necessarily to fight, but simply to discover what has happened to the battered Earth, what consumes men to combat to the end.
So he sails on the Garnet, along with the drunken and dying veteran, Tapp, the religion-crazed Yarrow, and the half-sane ex-librarian Smythe, the last of whom has some borrowed knowledge of what the world was, though not why it's become what it has. Eventually, they arrive at The Burn that borders The Meadows, where a mighty army is encamped and ready to fight. There too is the "rim army", a force of strangers, origin (as yet) unknown. The stage is set for…something, but not what you expect.
Dragon is very much a mood piece, a commentary on the futility of war, and perhaps even of humanity (or at least, this cast of humanity). If Ballard were to write a catastrophe book, where the catastrophe is the red-steeded Horseman of the Apocalypse, this might well be the result. It's downbeat, descriptive, brooding, and more than a little surreal. It reminds me a little of the endlessly warring tankers of the Great Plains in John M. Foucette's post-apocalyptic The Age of Ruin, but more compelling, more deliberately written.
It's not a happy book, but it is an interesting one, and I had no trouble tearing through most of it in a single reading.
3.5 stars—others might rate it higher.
by George Pritchard
Rip-Roaring and Rollicking
As I have heard mixed reports about Lin Carter, it gives me great joy to report that his newest collection, Beyond the Gates of Dream, is simply delightful. The collection is written as a deliberate throwback to serial fiction and the heyday of Weird Tales, and in that sector, Carter (what a suitable name!) thrives. In this era of the New, Carter's writing can often seem antediluvian, so it is a joy to see those fins and gills be used as they were meant to be.
by Jeff Jones
My favorite story was actually the first, “Masters of the Metropolis”. Written with Randall Garrett, it describes the main character going from New Jersey to New York City in the modern day, except that he has “Wonder-sense” — the ability to see the incredible wonder that exists all around us.
Four stars.
“Keru” is one of the shortest stories in the collection, a Floridian horror story right out of Weird Tales. It has one of two female characters in the book, which is both accurate to the era Carter is recreating, and to Carter's sensibility as an author. Its racial politics are somewhat muddled, but it is leagues ahead of what Campbell is putting out.
Four stars.
The closest to New Wave that Carter gets is in “Owlstone”, but it's firmly in the slow, thoughtful realm of New Wave, rather than anything close to sexuality and gender. I enjoyed it, particularly the ending. The story is from the perspective of a slave creature, who is used by the leader of Earth to fly through space and meet with the leaders of other planets. Called to communicate with the computer who commands the universe, the leaders discover they are being replaced by computers. But what will happen to the slave creatures?
Four stars.
“Harvey Hodges, Veebelfetzer” is an attempt at a SFF comedy epic short story. There is potential in it, but it is all so tangled up with early-author nonsense that should have been trimmed back long ago that even said author apologizes for its existence. It is not bad in a way that makes me angry, but it needed considerably more work, that it did not necessarily justify. It’s definitely the weakest of the lot.
Two stars.
There are two sections of unfinished stories, which I am not rating. The stories are not finished, so it does not seem fair to judge them just yet.
Admittedly, this collection is best taken in slowly, as Carter's joy coming through the pages can often be overwhelming if read for long periods. I was reminded of interacting with a particularly exuberant horse, or a large puppy, in book form. If frequent fannish winks, nods, and asides fill you with annoyance and dread, I do recommend avoiding this book. He writes such notes at the beginning and end of each story, and at the beginning and end of the book, like a joyful Rod Serling, from Worldcon rather than the Twilight Zone, and hopped up on PDQ chocolate powder.
3.5 stars if you like this sort of thing, one star if you don't.
But why shouldn't Carter be excited? He was allowed to finish a posthumous Conan story, and that tale, “The Hand of Nergal”, takes up the majority of the book. I enjoyed it as a Conan story, and was glad to see Carter avoid the numerous potential pitfalls that Howard set up in his world and writing style. This is a place where Carter’s weaknesses in the New Wave become strengths in the old. Lucky for the reader, despite Conan’s supposedly barbarous nature, he has little interest in the beautiful servant girl who briefly crosses his path, before going to destroy the demonic vampires threatening the world! I wonder if this is related to Conan’s mighty thews in any way, after the revelations in Sports Illustrated back in June regarding the significant use of steroids in professional sports.
3.5 stars.
”So close your waking eyes/And picture endless skies” — and wonder!
I was interested in reading this month’s Ace Double because I’d never read any Rackham, but had heard some good things about his writing. Ipomoea turned out to be a mixed bag, a pacy adventure story with some interesting themes that didn’t quite live up to its early promise.
Cover of Ipomoea
The story takes place in a future society where interplanetary travel is as easy as taking an ocean liner is now, and a small number of people are making it rich on a trio of exoplanets which are within easy reach of Earth’s solar system. Our protagonist, Sam Hutten, is the son of one of those exoplanetary billionaires, but he has rejected his father and is now working as a sociologist on Earth. He receives, and obeys, a request to visit his father but clearly the request is more than social: assassination attempts, and contact with mysterious government agents investigating a new super-addictive drug going by the name of “Happy Sugar” (and derived from plants of the Ipomoea genus, hence the title), are to follow. When Hutten’s father turns up dead, Hutten investigates and finds a plot for universal domination by another of the billionaires, involving the drug and some gems capable of mentally conditioning their wearer.
There’s some very good and timely ideas here. The drug plot clearly draws on anxieties in the news about the possibility that the “tune in, turn on, drop out” culture of today might make people susceptible to influence by Communists or worse. There are also some good SFnal touches of imagined technology, with humanoid robots and a character who has, Frankenstein-like, been formed through melding three different people (meaning he lacks an ego and is therefore conveniently immune to psionic suggestion).
However, what I found most intriguing about the novella was the initial setup of a world where Japan has become the dominant economic and cultural power. Rackham’s argument is that the Japanese will come to this position through their production of cheap goods at low prices: “They made their stuff cheap not in competition, not to undercut anyone else, but because it could be made cheap.” Through pursuing excellence for its own sake, rather than in pursuit of conquest, they become top nation. While I’m not thoroughly convinced at the idea that the Japanese are non-competitive, the country’s recent technological and economic progress suggests that a Japanese-dominated twenty-first century might not be an outside possibility. This idea that success is achieved through non-competition and selflessness becomes a thematic link through the book, in that the villain enslaves his victims psionically through appealing to their subconscious desires, and it is only through sublimating the ego that one can resist.
Unfortunately, a lot of this early setup goes by the wayside. Apart from a few brief scenes, we don’t actually get much sense that this world is Japanese-influenced. Although this might be excused on the grounds that the villains, on the exoplanet, appear to be Europeans and into the idea of racial purity, one would expect a bit more comment on the distinction between their worlds and Earth from our protagonist.
Furthermore, we never get much exploration of why Hutten became estranged from his family, or why he became a sociologist beyond that this allows him long passages of exposition on the nature of society. Indeed, by about three-quarters of the way in Hutten’s profession appears to have been forgotten, as the story takes a sharp twist into James Bond territory. Hutten and his special agent friends must bring down a villain who is depressingly keen on making speeches explaining his plans for universal domination, and the resolution is telegraphed rather obviously to the reader.
It’s even more disappointing since, early in the story, Hutten argues, based on the rise of the Japanese, that “world domination will not work, either through force or persuasion… No government can long persist against the will of the governed,” which suggests that, if that theme were pursued, the villain would be defeated through collective action on the part of the people. Instead, we get superheroes with convenient powers saving the day, without any challenge to the economic status quo that, for all Hutten’s speechifying about the Japanese values of doing well by doing good simply for its own sake, has allowed eight billionaires to dominate its economy. A more self-aware novella might have made something of the cognitive dissonance between Hutten’s theories and the fact that the world he’s in doesn’t work that way at all (to say nothing of Hutten’s complete obliviousness of this problem), but not this one.
Two and a half stars, mostly for the setup.
Cover of The Brass Dragon
I won’t say too much about the second half of the double, The Brass Dragon by Marion Zimmer Bradley. It’s an oddly good fit with the Rackham but for the wrong reasons, namely that it also sets up an intriguing mystery only for the revelation to prove rather disappointing.
The story revolves around Barry Cowan, a young man who turns up in a Texas hospital with no memory of his past life other than a vague impression that he used to live in California, a few disconnected memories of some place that may or may not be Earth, and a little brass statue of a dragon in his pocket. The mystery builds as he is found by his (very normal) family and returned home, but is stalked by strange people apparently looking for something in his possession, and who threaten him and his family. Is he a time-traveler? An arrival from a parallel universe? An alien in human form?
About halfway through the narrative, his memory is restored, and everything falls into place for himself and for the reader. In case anyone here is planning on reading this, I won’t reveal too much other than to say that it becomes a fairly straightforward, even banal, space adventure. I’m also not quite sure who the intended audience is: the age of the protagonist (eighteen) suggests it’s supposed to be a juvenile, but there’s no real reason why he couldn’t be an adult.
A funny thing happened to me on the way to my magazines recently. I had already read my copy of Six Gates From Limbo, from Michael Joseph when I saw it was being serialized in If. I delayed my reading of these issues but I did look at my colleague David’s reviews of them. This is when a few odd things occurred to me.
Firstly, it took place over two issues which also contained many other stories, yet my issues of If were not particularly thick to make up for this. In addition, I noticed David’s reviews stated how rushed the story seemed, when no such point had occurred to me.
Now I know magazines do cut down stories, but this had no explanation as this was essentially a novella version. When New Worlds is forced to cut down, they have given summaries of what has been excised and have been the subject of attacks in fanzines for losing parts of the original content. I have not yet seen anyone had comment on this in the case of If.
So, in the obsessive way I like to do things, I performed a chapter-by-chapter wordcount comparison to see what was lost. By my estimation, the serialized form constitutes only around 40% of the novel length!
This is not as much of a change between the novelette and novel versions of Flowers For Algernon but not dissimilar to the different versions of Drowned World. As such I thought some in-depth investigating was in order.
To start with, where have the changes been made? The answer is, throughout. The only chapter which appeared to be in-tact is the final one. This makes some sense as the final discussion between Rex and Regina is necessary to accentuate the themes. In addition, it is the shortest so there is less to remove.
The only other without much cut from it is the next shortest chapter, Rex’s return to Limbo from Mercury. From the rest, all have between 40 and 80% of their content removed.
As such, the central plot remains predominantly the same. Three people awake in an idyllic artificial environment with six portals to other planets. They investigate through them but find each flawed in some way. They have to work out what has happened and what they will do about it.
What changes between the novel and magazine versions are the details and emphasis. To take the “return to Limbo” chapter that I mentioned before, the start provides a good example of what is often removed:
Here are the first few paragraphs in its serialized form:
His awakening in Limbo was the worst of the three he had experienced, but there was one good thing about it. Regina was there. She was crying. Vaguely he gathered he’d been gone seventeen days.
Tiny as she was, she had virtually carried him home and left him in the bathroom.
An hour later, desperately tired and weak, but clean, he managed to stagger to bed. He was surprised and hurt that Regina wasn’t anywhere upstairs.
Then through his fatigue he sniffed and found enough energy to get out of bed again. Regina was cooking grilled steak…
He went down in his pajamas. When he arrived, Regina was pouring the wine.
And in the book form:
Regina got him back to the house with some difficulty. She was crying – vaguely he gathered he’d been gone seventeen days. In Limbo it was night. She had rushed to the Gateway in her nightdress the moment she sensed his return.
This awakening was the worst of the three because he had no sleep and little food on Mercury. Only some twelve hours after the ordeal of transference, it had been repeated. The thirst was familiar, and the hunger, but this time there was also a desperate lassitude and weakness that put talking out of the question, other than the occasional gasped word.
Again he had his memory unimpaired and he wanted to restore himself the way that seemed natural to him, by crawling in the bushes, chewing fruit, drinking clear water and bathing in the lake. But the lake, Regina reminded him, was seven miles away, and the house less than one mile.
Tiny as she was, she had virtually carried him home and left him in the bathroom.
An hour later, desperately tired and weak, but clean, he managed to stagger to bed. He was surprised and hurt that Regina wasn’t anywhere upstairs.
Then through his fatigue he sniffed and found enough energy to get out of bed again. Regina was cooking grilled steak…It couldn’t be fresh killed meat, because Regina on her own would certainly not have killed a cow or a bull but it smelled far fresher than anything he had smelled in Mercury.
He went down in his pyjamas. When he arrived, Regina was pouring the wine.
As you can see the facts given are largely the same, but the serialized form lacks any reasoning or flavour. You do not need to know that Rex welcomes the return to the naturalness of life in Limbo compared to the artificiality of Mercury via his thoughts on food as a restorative, but it highlights the themes and makes him a more fleshed-out character.
But are there more substantive changes? Limbo is much more thoroughly explored in the novel, with details of the flora and fauna greatly expanded, along with the nature of their maintenance. With this it is also made explicit the parallels with Adam and Eve, with Regina believing the gateways are the serpent, along with many references to Greek mythology.
Another key element is that the magazine does not contain Rex’s vivid dreams. I can see that they could seem superfluous but I would argue they are, in fact, important for understanding the ending.
I do feel the book length version is more likely to appeal to the hippy crowd, with its rejection of society and the ecological themes.
As David noted, many of the planets get short shrift in the magazine version and that is definitely a notable difference. In addition to much more detail and complexity applied to the transfers, the six gateway worlds are expanded, even Mercury which had the longest section in the magazine. Along with the aforementioned discussions on the artificiality of food, there are also mentions of isolation, suicide kiosks, people overdosing on Pex and other such features of the city.
Possibly the most frustrating excision is almost an entire chapter laying the groundwork about the people on Cresta, why they are central to the final plan and then subsequent sections on what happened as a result. It is instead reduced to Rex making the gateway switch and saying he told someone on the planet about it. Which, even with the final chapter intact, likely makes it confusing for most readers.
So, would my opinion be that the book version is better? Unfortunately not, for there is another element that was expunged by Pohl and it is one I wish McIntosh had not included in his novel: the poor treatment of Regina. (Those of a sensitive disposition may be advised to skip the rest of this section).
Regina in sexual slavery on Landfall. Not linked to her womanhood in magazine form.
McIntosh’s restrained descriptions of Regina in the serial brought praise from David. Unfortunately, this is definitely not the case in its book form. There Rex sees her as a “girl”, a young nineteen to his twenty-five, with regular descriptions of how pert her breasts are and “child-like” her body is. This is until she is almost raped and turned into a sex slave on Landfall. It is only at that point he can see her as a woman.
Unfortunately, this isn’t even the first rape scene. After his return from Mercury, Rex attempts to rape Regina declaring:
I waited, remember? But after a man and woman are wed, with or without ceremony, after they made love, he can’t rape her. You’re mine, Regina.
Mr. McIntosh is certainly not a devotee of Betty Friedan or Simone de Beauvoir.
If you want my judgement each version succeeds and fails in different ways. Somewhere there is a full length-version which removes the questionable details but continues to expand on the more interesting themes and ideas McIntosh draws out.
Two Stars for both variations
by Brian Collins
Both of the novels I got for this month did not work out, sadly; but interestingly they're failures of different breeds, or rather they fail in different ways. I've read much of what Anne McCaffrey has written over the past few years while this is my first time reading Kenneth Bulmer. Both are pretty close in age, indeed being of the literary generation that preceded the New Wave. How have they adapted—or more importantly, how have they not?
Anne McCaffrey technically debuted over fifteen years ago, though she has only been writing consistently for the past few years. In those few years she has built quite the following. She became the first woman to win a Hugo in any of the fiction categories, and her Pern and "The Ship Who…" stories have undoubtedly been popular. I'm not a fan.
Decision at Doona is a new standalone novel from McCaffrey, with a premise that will sound familiar for those who remember the Good Old Days of science fiction—the early '50s, incidentally when McCaffrey sold her first story. It's the future, and humanity is scouting for habitable planets, mainly because there's no room left on Earth. Humans live in alcoves, like bees, and have basically depleted the planet's resources. Finding a planet fit for human colonization would already be difficult, but there's an extra criterion: the planet must be devoid of intelligent life comparable to mankind. Doona at first seems like the perfect candidate—until it isn't. The Hrrubans, a race of cat-like aliens, already live on Doona, keeping their existence secret from the first human scouts. The Hrrubans are about as "civilized" as the humans, but that's not going to help either party, as mankind finds itself at an impasse.
So, a first-contact narrative in which, by sheer coincidence, two advanced races meet on a planet which doesn't strictly belong to either of them. The humans are haunted by the collective memory of having encountered another intelligent race before, the Siwannese, which ended tragically. I will say, how the Siwannese became extinct is not what you would expect if you're familiar with colonialism in the Americas. Then again, I'm not sure McCaffrey did much research with regards to real-world colonialism. To give McCaffrey some credit she does delve into the subject, which is an inherently thorny one, with characters even referring to Christopher Columbus with some shame. The central question of the novel, though, that of whether the Hrrubans are indigenous to Doona (if they are then the humans must pull out, and if not then there's room for cooperation), is an odd one that assumes would-be colonizers have the best intentions with a would-be indigenous population.
The strangely tone-deaf optimism and belief in colonizers as basically good people (as opposed to people actively perpetuating a system of death and imprisonment) is a tune that will sound familiar to Analog subscribers. Indeed it's here where I think McCaffrey's key to success lies. While I'm not personally fond of McCaffrey's writing, it's not hard to see why she has become so popular in the past few years. Reading her must be a comfort for a lot of people. After all, in McCaffrey's world it's 1959 and not 1969. Ike is still in office, and Jack Kennedy is a strapping young senator—and alive. Vietnam is a country without any acreage in the minds of suburban Americans. Unfortunately Jack Kennedy is dead and so are we, in some metaphysical sense. We have cast the runes against our own souls. But for McCaffrey, and indeed for the humans within this novel, nothing much has changed since 1959. The distant future will not be too different from how it was in the Good Old Days. Now isn't that a comforting thought?
To make matters more worrying, McCaffrey is just not a very good writer. Even comparing her to some other conservatives (and I do believe McCaffrey is a conservative) in the field, like Poul Anderson and Larry Niven, her worlds and aliens are not as vibrant. Anderson, whose politics are very different from mine, can still be interesting because of his moodiness and at times surprising moral complexity, whereas McCaffrey might be living under a rock. The Hrrubans reminded me somewhat of Niven's Kzinti, but whereas the Kzinti can be easily distinguished from spacefaring humans, McCaffrey's aliens are more analogous to American indigenous peoples. And Doona itself is such a boring location, with barely any thought or writing given to description and mechanics. Surely we deserve better than this.
I got mailed this new Bulmer, a British import, because Kris Vyas-Myall is a Bulmer fan and I've not read any of his work before. This may have been a bad idea for a starting point. Firstly, what the hell is this cover? Who is responsible? The artist is uncredited so I'm actually not sure. The novel itself is evidently an attempt on Bulmer's part to get hip with the kids, so to speak. The Ulcer Culture is a dystopian SF novel all about drugs (especially drugs), sex, and violence; and yet I was still bored for much of it.
The plot doesn't really exist, and anyway it would be hard to summarize. The world of the novel is more the point, ya know. It's the future, in what I have to think is fish-and-chips merry goddamn England, and it's "the Age of Material Plenty." There are two groups of people, the Uppers (haha) and the workers, with the former keeping the latter in check with a hallucinogen called Joy Juice. The welfare state has gotten out of hand, with workers lounging around experiencing lifelike hallucinations, having a far-out time as it were. The real problem starts when, for no apparent reason, these hallucinations which normally would provide fantasies for the workers start turning nightmarish. Is the drug supply going bad? Are people's bodies adapting to the drug and having adverse effects? Who really killed Jack Kennedy? Why am I asking you?
Now, science fiction has had a storied history with drugs. When Aldous Huxley wrote Brave New World almost forty years ago, he theorized that drugs could be used to pacify the proletariat and reinforce subservience, through a Freudian understanding of pleasure. Baby wants nipple, baby cries until he gets nipple, baby acquires nipple, baby stops crying. Huxley would later change his mind profoundly on the subject of drug use, although it seems Bulmer has not gotten the memo. The problem for the reader is that The Ulcer Culture reads like a middle-aged conservative's attempt at trying to understand the hedonistic antics of the younger generation. This is a "New Wave" novel, but within limits. Sexuality plays a major role, yet women only appear in the margins and to a symbolic capacity; and despite the lack of female interest there's no mention of homosexuality. I thought the British were all about buggering each other. Is that the word? And there's basically no swearing either—no "cock," no "pussy," not even a token "fuck" thrown in as a treat.
At first I was led to believe Bulmer knew what he was doing, but then I realized he's merely puppeteering the corpse of some nonexistent New Wave writer with this outing—which, mind you, is a failure in writing that was not due to laziness or cowardice. I don't like it, but I at least respect the effort.
There has been an invasion at my trusty local import bookstore, an invasion of scantily clad, muscular Barbarians, sporting furry loincloths and horned helmets and brandishing gigantic swords and axes, while equally scantily clad maidens cling to their mighty thews.
The genre that Fritz Leiber dubbed "swords and sorcery" was born forty years ago almost to the day, when Robert E. Howard's "The Shadow Kingdom" was published, instigating a veritable invasion of sword-wielding heroes and heroines into the pages of Weird Tales, Strange Tales and Unknown. The first Barbarian boom only lasted a little more than ten years, cut short by the death or defection of many of its authors as well as World War II paper shortages and changing reader tastes.
However, in the past ten years, Barbarian scouts have occasionally made forays into a landscape dominated by science fiction, making camp in the pages of Fantastic in the US and Science Fantasy in the UK, recruiting fans and authors penning new adventures for modern day Barbarians. Then, four years ago, the walls were breached with the runaway success of Lancer's Conan reprints and the Barbarian hordes invaded the bookstore. Nowadays, there is more sword and sorcery on the shelves than there ever was during the genre's heyday in the thirties.
These days, whenever I go to my local import bookstore, half-naked Barbarians greet me from the paperback spinner rack, illustrated by Frank Frazetta, J. Jones or their lesser imitators. And I have to admit that I inevitably reach for the books with these striking covers to read the blurb on the back. For while not every scantily clad Barbarian can hold a candle to Robert E. Howard's Conan or Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and Gray Mouser or even John Jakes' Brak, even the lesser entries into the genre are at the very least entertaining.
The latest Barbarian to invade the bookstore shelves is the aptly named Kothar, Barbarian Swordsman, penned by pulp and comic book veteran Gardner F. Fox with a stunning cover by the talented J. Jones. The tagline promises that Kothar is "the mightiest fantasy hero of the enchanted, terrifying world before – or beyond – recorded time". With such hyperbole, how could I resist?
Two Distinguished Scholars – or are they?
However, the slim paperback does not open with Barbarian action. Instead, we get an introduction penned by one Donald MacIvers PhD. There are a lot of literary scholars in the world, but the number of academics who take pulp fiction and science fiction and fantasy seriously can be counted on both hands and Donald MacIvers PhD is not one of them. Fascinating…
MacIvers opens his introduction with a quote from Albert Kremnitz, whom he describes as "a German philosopher who is no longer widely read". Indeed, Albert Kremnitz is so little read that even my sixteen volume 1908 edition of the encyclopaedia Der Große Brockhaus has never heard of him. Hmm, the plot thickens…
MacIvers quotes Kremnitz stating that even though the Industrial Revolution would seem to have driven mysticism back, while science, technology and reason reign supreme, mysticism would rise again roughly in the middle of the twentieth century, bringing about a new Age of Heroes. For someone not even Der Große Brockhaus has heard of, Albert Kremnitz is certainly prescient.
MacIvers then informs us that this new Age of Heroes will lead to "the recreation of mythological supermen, or, as [Kremnitz] predicted with amazing insight, the invention of heroes so magnificent, so fantastically endowed with super-powers, that they exist only in the fantasy projections of man. Such a superhero is Kothar – Barbarian Swordsman."
At this point, I was beginning to suspect that Gardner F. Fox, who after all created the original Flash, Hawkman, Doctor Fate, and many other superheroes for National Comics, was pulling our collective leg here and that both Donald MacIvers PhD and Albert Kremnitz, a German philosopher so obscure that even Der Große Brockhaus has never of him, were in truth just alternate identities of Gardner F. Fox, who promptly describes himself as a "distinguished American writer".
Besides, Fox in the guise of Donald MacIvers PhD actually makes an interesting point here, namely that the disenchantment of modern life has given birth to our desire for larger than life heroes, be they the costumed superheroes of comic books, the square-jawed spacemen and brass-bra wearing maidens of golden age science fiction or the muscular and scantily clad Barbarians that have invaded our newsstands and bookstores of late. The reasons these stories are so popular, no matter how much literary scholars may decry them, is because we need them to escape our day to day reality for just a little while.
To quote MacIvers or rather Fox, "Kothar – Barbarian Swordsman is an epic hero for any age, but it would appear that our age needs him more than any other."
Bad Luck Barbarian
After this introduction, we get – no, not sword-swinging action, but a prologue informing us that "The Universe is old. Old!" just in case we didn't get it the first time. Fox sets the stage by telling us that Kothar's adventures take place eons after mankind has conquered the stars and "an empire of Man was spread throughout the universe. This empire died more than a billion years ago, after which man himself sank into a state of barbarism." So Kothar's world is closer to Jack Vance's Dying Earth than Robert E. Howard's Hyborean Age.
Once this prologue, billed as a fragment of "The Lord Histories of Satoram Mandamor", is over, we at last meet our hero, Kothar – Barbarian Swordsman. Though it seems that Kothar is not long for this world or any other, for at the beginning of the story "The Sword of the Sorcerer" (like the Conan, Kull or Fafhrd and Gray Mouser books, the novel is a fix-up of three novelettes) the sellsword Kothar is grievously wounded, having just lost a battle. On the run from enemy soldiers intent on capturing him and flaying him alive, Kothar stumbles into an ancient crypt, where he encounters the shrivelled corpse of the sorcerer Afgorkon. Raised from the dead by Queen Elfa, Afgorkon bestows upon Kothar the magical sword Frostfire, forged from a meteorite and able to cut through any substance, even steel. However, the blade comes with a curse, for as long as he wields Frostfire, Kothar must remain poor and possess nothing. Since Kothar is a mercenary, who fights strictly for gold and treasure, this is of course a problem.
However, before Kothar can figure out how to lift the curse upon his sword, he first has to defeat Lord Markoth, who has dethroned Queen Elfa. To no one's surprise, he succeeds, but not without picking up a second curse in the form of Red Lori, a beautiful witch in the employ of Markoth, whose spirit keeps haunting Kothar by day and night, appearing in a cup of ale and in his dreams, even though her body is imprisoned in a silver cage in Queen Elfa's castle.
The relationship between Kothar and the vengeful witch who haunts him is fascinating, especially since Red Lori is not above occasionally aiding Kothar, for none shall harm him until Red Lori has had her vengeance. It's almost a twisted love story.
After restoring Queen Elfa to her throne, Kothar, his devoted horse Greyling and the magical sword Frostfire, take off for more adventures and are hired to find "The Treasure in the Labyrinth", a treasure which happens to be guarded by all sorts of traps and monsters. After fighting his way through these traps and monsters – and rescuing a lovely and grateful maiden – Kothar faces the final guardian, a Minotaur straight out of Greek legend. Naturally, Kothar prevails and slays the Minotaur, but he is in for a surprise, for the Minotaur turns into a beautiful woman, the lover of a sorcerer who was cursed by his rival. Kothar has managed to lift this curse, though he still cannot lift his own and is promptly double-crossed by his employers, too, losing the treasure to them. However, Kothar's treacherous employers don't get to enjoy the treasure for long, before poetic justice strikes again…
In the final story, Kothar meets "The Woman in the Witch Wood", Lady Alaine of Shallone, who is forced to live alone in the woods, unable to leave due to a spell cast by the villainous Baron Gorfroi. Lady Alaine asks Kothar's help to free her and her people from this evil spell and sneak into the castle to slay the Baron and retrieve the means by which Lady Alaine is kept imprisoned, a lock of her white hair kept in a golden coffin. Unsurprisingly. Kothar succeeds, only to find himself double-crossed yet again by Lady Alaine who uses her magic to turn him into a dog. However, this time around, Kothar expected betrayal and in turn tricks the Lady Alaine…
Pure Barbarian Fun
Regardless of what Donald MacIvers PhD has to say, the adventures of Kothar are not as good as the works of past masters like Robert E. Howard, C.L. Moore and Clark Ashton Smith nor are they quite up to the standard set by the best of the modern practitioners of the genre such as Fritz Leiber, Michael Moorcock, Roger Zelazny or Joanna Russ.
That said, Kothar – Barbarian Swordsman, is a lot of fun. It's the sort of book you will devour in one sitting – I did, interrupted only by consulting Der Große Brockhaus about the mysterious Albert Kremnitz – and smile throughout. Kothar may not be the most original of heroes, though there is enough to distinguish him from the other Barbarians clogging up bookshelves, and his adventures may not be the most original either, though there is usually at least one or two surprising twists. And while "the distinguished American author Gardner F. Fox" may not be Robert E. Howard or Fritz Leiber – but then who is? – he is a skilled enough writer to weave thoroughly entertaining tales. He is certainly a better writer than Lin Carter who pens similar stories.
I was debating how to rate this book. It's not a masterpiece nor Hugo material, but is so much fun that I shall give it four stars anyway. And should Mr. Fox ever decide to revisit Kothar – who after all is still suffering from the dual curse of sword-induced poverty and a sexy witch haunting him – I will certainly pick up further adventures of the sellsword from Cumberia.
We've got a whopping ten titles for you to enjoy this month. Part of it is the increased pace of paperback production. Part is the increased number of Journey reviewers on staff! Enjoy:
From the author of Stand on Zanzibar, and also a lot of churned-out mediocrity, comes this mid-length novel. Can it reach the sublimity of last year's masterpiece, or is it a rent-payer? Let's see.
The band "Bruno and the Hermetic Tradition" (great name, that) have a bit of a Be-in on a deserted beach south of London. Their frivolity is marred by the appearance of a flight-suited zombie, half his face eaten away.
Strange happenings compound: the lushy Mrs. Beedle, who lives in a wreck of a home by the beach, suddenly starts appearing in two places at once. Those who encounter her find themselves doused with some kind of acid. Meanwhile, Rory, a DJ on the pirate radio ship Jolly Roger, hauls up a fish on his line that transforms halfway into a squid before breaking free.
The local constabulary, as well as the scientific types in the vicinity, are increasingly alarmed and then mobilized, as the true nature of what they're dealing with is determined: an alien or mutated being with the power to digest and mimic anything it encounters.
In premise, it's thus somewhat akin to Don A. Stuart's (John W. Campbell Jr.) seminal "Who Goes There". In execution, it's not. The rather thin story is developed glacially, with lots of slice-of-life scenes that are not unpleasant to read, but don't add much. Indeed, one could argue that it is possible to unbalance things too far in the direction of "show, don't tell"—Double, Double is written almost like a screenplay, with endless little cliff-hangers, and always from the point of view of the various characters.
Beyond the writing, the premise is fundamentally flawed: digestion is never 100% efficient. Heck, I don't think it's 10% efficient. And this creature can not only digest but duplicate, down to memories? Color me unconvinced. Also, we are lucky that it chose to come to land as quickly as it did—if it had just stayed in the sea, all of the sea life in the world would have been these… things… in very short order.
All told, this is definitely a piece written for the cash grab, perhaps even a recycled, rejected script for the TV anthology Journey to the Unknown. It's not a bad piece of writing, but I'll be donating it to my local book shop when I'm done.
Three stars.
by Brian Collins
For my first book reviews as part of the Journey, I got some SF and fantasy in equal measure. Neither are really worth it, but here we can see the difference between a deeply flawed novel and one that is virtually impossible to salvage.
I know it’s only been a few months since Piers Anthony hit us with his second novel, Sos the Rope, but he has already given us another with Omnivore. That’s three novels in two years! For all his faults, you can’t say he’s lazy. It’s quite possible that in thirty years there will be more Piers Anthony novels than there are stars in the sky.
Omnivore is a planetary adventure, not dissimilar from what Hal Clement or Poul Anderson would write, but with some of those “lovable” Anthony quirks. Here’s the gist: A superhuman agent named Subble is sent to investigate three explorers who have returned to Earth from the “dangerous but promising” planet Nacre, each with his/her trauma and secrets as to what happened. Why did eighteen people die while exploring Nacre prior to these three, and what did they bring back with them? There’s Veg, who as his nickname suggests is a vegetarian; Aquilon, an emotionally fraught woman who now has a case of shell shock; and Cal, gifted with a brilliant intellect but cursed with a frail body. Veg and Cal love Aquilon and Aquilon loves both men. Romantic tension ensues. Anthony pulled a similar love triangle in Sos the Rope, but for what it's worth this one is not quite as painful.
Nacre itself is the star of the show, and it would not surprise me if Anthony were to return to this setting in the future. It’s a fungus-rich planet in which the land is covered in an unfathomable amount of “dust”—spores from airborne fungi. There’s so much airborne fungi, in fact, that the sun has been more or less blocked out, and the animal life has adapted not only to low-light conditions but to move about with only one (big) eye and one limb. Clement would have surely treated this material with more scientific enthusiasm, but Clement sadly is no longer producing his best work and this novel is a serviceable substitute for the not-too-discerning.
Omnivore is Anthony’s best novel to date; unfortunately it’s still not good. There are two crippling problems here. The first is that Anthony simply cannot help himself when it comes to writing women unsympathetically, and the first section of the novel (there are four, each focusing on a different character) is the worst. Veg, while heroic, is unfortunately a woman-hater. I don’t necessarily have an issue with characters having unsavory flaws, but the problem is that this dim view of women bleeds into the rest of the novel to some degree. It should come as no surprise that Aquilon, the sole female character, is also the only one driven purely by emotions as opposed to intellect. Subble himself may as well be a robot, but Anthony writes him as a human so that he can a) take drugs, and b) seduce Aquilon.
The second is that it’s clear that this novel is About Things, but I can’t figure out what those Things could be. There is obvious symbolism at work. The trio of explorers play off of elements (herbivore/carnivore/omnivore, brains/brawn/beauty, and so on), but I’m not sure what statement is being made here. This is especially glaring in a year where we got many SF novels that are About Things; indeed 1968 might’ve been the year of SF novels that try to say Something Very Important. Omnivore might’ve been fine in the hands of a Clement or Anderson, but rather than be true to itself (an Analog-style adventure yarn), it has delusions of importance. It doesn’t help that Anthony gives us a puzzle narrative, but then takes seemingly forever to tell us what the puzzle actually is. The solution, thus, is unsatisfying.
At the rate he’s progressing, Anthony may be able to pen a decent novel in another few years. Two out of five stars, maybe three if it had caught me in a very forgiving mood.
Swordmen of Vistar, by Charles Nuetzel
Cover by Albert Nuetzell
Now we have the latest in what's proving to be an avalanche of heroic fantasy releases, and this one is simply painful to read. We know something is amiss just from looking at the title; to my recollection Nuetzel never used "swordman" or "swordmen" in the novel itself, which leads me to wonder what he could've been thinking. The writing between the covers is no less clumsy.
Thoris is a galley slave, in an ancient world not far off from the mythical Greece of Perseus and Pegasus, when he and the princess Illa find themselves possibly the only survivors of a shipwreck. Thoris falls in love with Illa before the two have even had a full conversation together. They first arrive at an island of cannibals before escaping, only to fall into the clutches of the tyrannical Lord Waja and his sword(s)men of Vistar. Also imprisoned is the wizard Xalla, who is father to a woman named Opil whom Thoris had saved earlier. With no other options, Thoris makes a deal with Xalla to vanquish Waja and then free the wizard—on the ultimate condition that Thoris also take Opil as his bride.
The back cover compares Thoris to Conan the Cimmerian and John Carter of Mars, and indeed Swordmen of Vistar is supposed to be a rip-roaring adventure with a damsel in distress, a morally ambiguous wizard, and a giant snake. One problem: the prose is some of the most ungainly I've ever laid eyes on. Edgar Rice Burroughs and Robert E. Howard were not tender in their use of the English language, but they had a real knack for plotting which Nuetzel lacks. This is a 220-page novel and surprisingly little happens in it. I hope you still like love triangles, because this novel also has one. Lord Waja and his top henchmen are defeated by the end of the eleventh chapter, but we still have two more to go with Opil as the final obstacle. We need to pad out this already-short book, obviously.
With how much I've been reading about love triangles, I think God may be telling me to try acquiring a second girlfriend. If I were Thoris I would be stuck with a tough choice. Do I pick the tough-minded woman who clearly appreciates my swordsmanship, or the haughty princess who's been degrading me for much of the novel? Sure, the former threatens to kill me if I refuse her, but nobody's perfect.
By the way, Nuetzel may be excusing the awkward prose by stating in the preface that the Thoris narrative is a translation of an ancient manuscript that some academic had written up and given to him. Unfortunately academics, by and large, are terrible writers with no ear for English, and this shows in the "translation." It doesn't help that yes, this is derivative of the John Carter novels, along with a few other things; and while Robert E. Howard's Conan stories are often About Something, Nuetzel doesn't really have anything to say. If you've read hackwork in this genre then the good news is that you've already read Swordmen of Vistar, and so can save yourself the trouble of buying a copy.
Basically worthless, although the illustrations (courtesy of Albert Nuetzell) are at least decent. One out of five stars.
Bill Jarrett is a galactic adventurer, a man who spans the stars to find excitement, glory and money. He’s a flirt and a fighter and the kind of guy who can work himself out of situations. But when Jarrett gets abducted, has a mind-controlling creature strapped to his head, and is sent to overthrow a man who he’s told is a dictator, Jarrett finds himself in a situation he might not be able to win.
Well, yeah, of course, Jarrett does end up winning in the situation he finds himself in, with the help of his friends and a few mechanical contrivances. Because of course he does. As a galactic adventurer, that’s what you might expect from him.
The Star Venturers is an entertaining Ace novel, a quickie star-spanner with a handful of ideas which might stick to your brain. Author Kenneth Bulmer occasionally throws in a small element of satire or self-awareness which enlivens the plot; there’s a bit of a feeling of the author kind of winking at us as he tells this story. But there’s not nearly enough of that stuff to make this book stand out.
Bulmer does play a bit with an interesting concept, the sort of self-learning machine, a kind of artificially intelligent creature called a frug (which Jarrett nicknames Ferdie the Frug) which is placed on a person’s forehead like a headband and which compels the person to follow orders lest they feel horrific agony.
Mr. Bulmer with his wife Pamela
Bulmer takes pains to imply that the device is both mechanical and semi-sentient, a kind of uncaring vicious machine which Jarrett sometimes reasons with and almost treats like a pet – if the pet was a giant tumor which could only cause pain, that is. This idea of artificial intelligence dates back at least to the first robot stories, but the author gives the idea a fresh coat of paint here, and that concept is a real highlight for me.
Other than that, this is a pretty basic space fantasy Ace novel, which is entertaining for its two hour reading time but which will have you quickly flipping over to read the novel by Dean Koontz on the other side. At least it’s not About Things or Very Important. Instead The Star Venturers is just forgettable.
On the other hand, the flip side of this Ace Double is pretty memorable. Dean R. Koontz, an author new to me, has delivered a fascinating satire of a world which is easy to imagine and just as easy to dread.
In the near future, post apocalyptic America, television rules our world. All the people in America live for a special show which all can experience viscerally. That TV show, called The Show, has seven hundred million subscribers. Those subscribers watch a continuing story, kind of a soap opera, about the characters on the screen. But they don't just watch the characters, they also feel the same emotions as the characters. They feel empathy and pain for the characters. In a real way the characters and viewers are bonded.
Because the actors are so well known, so much a part of their audience's lives, even the act of replacing an actor can be tremendously fraught with stress and worry. The act of leaving The Show can be freeing but also terrifying. And when lead actor Mike Jorgova leaves The Show, it makes his life much more complicated. He becomes untethered, is trained to become part of a revolution, and discovers the deeper frightening truths behind a world he scarcely understood.
Young author Dean Koontz delivers a clever and exciting story which shows tremendous potential. He does an excellent job of creating his world in relatively few words, delivering character in just a few broad strokes and creating memorable villains and settings. The end action set-piece, for instance, is built with real suspense and ends with a thrilling struggle which is filled with energy.
Dean Koontz
Along with that aspect, young Mr. Koontz delivers two more elements which separate this book from many of its peers.
First, he paints a fascinating future which seems like a smart extension of McLuhan's concept that "the medium is the message." Koontz creates a TV show which feels like reality, in which the characters live in some semblance of real life while engaging in exaggerated, bizarre actions. That's a concept which feels all the more possible these days, with controversies about the Smothers Brothers and Vietnam dominating headlines about television in 1969.
Koontz also delivers a series of philosophical asides which discuss human evolution from village to society and the ways mass media both shrinks the world and expands our horizons. Nowadays we know everything about people who live across the world but nothing about the people who live next door to us, and that gap only promises to get wider. As our social networks grow, the strengths of our connections only shrink.
This is heady stuff for an Ace Double – and I've only touched on a few of the many ideas shared almost to overflowing here. In fact, the book is chockablock full of ideas but the ambition is a bit high for their achievement. Like many a new author, Koontz has many, many ideas he wants to explore but there are a few too many on display. Nevertheless, despite its thematic density, The Fall of the Dream Machine reads like a rocketship, hurtling ahead until it lands gracefully, sharing a thrilling journey for the readers.
Keep your eye on Mr. Koontz. I predict great things from him.
Poetry has always had a strange place in science fiction. Long before appearing in Hugo Gernsbeck’s magazines, poets have been attempting to explore fantastic themes. However, in spite of their regular presence in almost every SFF periodical, and many fanzines, they rarely seemed to be talked about, nor are they represented in either the Nebulas or the Hugos (although we here give out Galactic Stars to them).
Enter John Fairfax and Panther publishing, who have put together this anthology of responses to the space age. The selection inside is varied. Some are original and some are reprints. Some are SFnal, some are fantastical, others closer to reality. And, as the editor puts it:
Some poets are optimistic about the space odyssey, others view it with cynicism…and other poets do not care if man steps into space or the nearest bar so long as human relations begin with fornication and end with death.
As this book contains almost 50 separate pieces, I cannot hope to cover them all here; rather I want to give an overview and highlight some of the best.
Possibly due to my natural cynicism, Leslie Norris’ poems were among my favorites. He is willing to engage deeply with the future, but believes the same problems we have down here will continue there. For example, in Space Miner we hear of the fate of those travelling to distant worlds for such a job:
He had worked deep seams where encrusted ore,
Too hard for his diamond drill, had ripped
Strips from his flesh. Dust from a thousand metals
Stilted his lungs and softened the strength of his
Muscles. He had worked the treasuries of many
Near stars, but now he stood on the moving
pavement reserved for cripples who had served well.
Just a small part of one of his moving poems that raise interesting questions about where we are headed.
Closely related is John Moat’s Overture I. His works concentrate less on the science fiction but still wonder if we are heading in the right direction:
That twelve years’ Jane pacing outside the bar,
Offering anything for her weekly share
Of tea; those rats now grown immune to death –
I ask you, in whose name and by what power
Have you set out to colonize the stars?
This is only an extract and continues in that fashion. It ponders if what we are bringing to other planets is something they would care for.
Not all are so negative. Some, instead, write about the wonder and artistic possibilities of space travel. Robert Conquest (who SF fans may know from his anthologies or short fiction in Analog) produces a Stapledon-esque epic among the stars in Far Out:
While each colour and flow
Psychedelicists know
As Ion effects
Quotidian sights
Of those counterflared nights.
Yet Conquest still asks within, what is the value of these views to the artist? A complex piece for sure.
There are probably only two other names you have a reasonable chance of recognizing inside: D. M. Thomas and Peter Redgrove, both for their occasional appearances in the British Mags. As you might expect these are among the most explicitly science fictional. For example, in Limbo Thomas gives us a kind of verse version of The Cold Equations, whilst Redgrove’s pieces are trains of thoughts of two common character types of SFF.
However, it should not be thought others have written repetitively on the theme. These poems include such diverse topics as the difficulties of copulation in space, how to serve tea on a space liner, the first computer to be made an Anglican bishop, and explorers getting absorbed into a gestalt entity.
The biggest disappointment for me are the poems from the editor. It is to be expected Fairfax would have a number of pieces inside but, unfortunately, they are among the most pedestrian. For example, his Space Walk:
Around, around in freefall thought
The clinging cosmo-astronaut,
Awkward and expensive star
Dogpaddles from his spinning car.
The poem has nothing inherently wrong with it, but it does not feel insightful, nor does it do anything experimental. It more feels like what would win a middle-school poetry competition on the Space Race. Probably deserving of a low three stars but little more.
I feel, at least in passing, I need to point out we have the recurring problem of the British scene. In spite of the number of poems contained within, none of the poets appears to be woman. There are no shortage of women poets, either in the mainstream or within the fanzines, so I find it hard to believe there were no good pieces available. Hopefully, this can be remedied in a future volume. The Second Frontier, perhaps?
Either way, this is still a fabulous collection. Of course, it will not be for everyone. Poetry is probably the most subjective form of literature, and not everyone likes to sit down to read more than forty poems in a row. However, the selection here is a cut above what we tend to see from our regular science fiction writers (looking at you, de Camp and Carter) and I hope it helps raise the form to higher standards and recognition.
Four Stars for the whole anthology with a liberal sprinkling of fives for the poems I have called out.
Four new novels suggest the seasons, at least for those of us living in the temperate regions of the northern hemisphere. Let's start with the traditional beginning of the year, as opposed to our modern January.
Cover art by Margery Gill, who also supplies several interior illustrations.
The first thing you see when you open the book is musical notation. The melody is said to be a very old French tune, and it plays a major part in the plot.
Those of you who can read music may be able to whistle along with the boy.
Christina, known as Kirsty, is a schoolgirl whose mother died a while ago. Her father remarried, this time to a much younger woman. Like many stepchildren, Kirsty resents her.
An opportunity to escape the awkward situation for a while comes when Kirsty gets a job picking fruit in Norfolk. She moves away from her home in Suffolk and lives with a kindly elderly couple.
Strange things start to happen when she hears music coming from an empty room next to her attic bedroom. She meets a local boy who experienced amnesia and sleepwalking when he stayed in the house. More alarmingly, he almost drowned when he walked toward the sea in a trance.
In addition to this mystery, which involves the supernatural, there are multiple subplots. Kirsty has to learn to get along with her young stepmother. A schoolfriend has no father, an alcoholic mother, smokes, admits to having tried marijuana, and is later arrested for shoplifting. One of her two young brothers suffers an accident.
Despite all this going on, and a dramatic climax, the novel is rather leisurely. The author captures the voice of her young narrator convincingly, and never writes down to her readers. There's a love story involved, and the book might be thought of as a Gothic Romance for teenage girls. In addition to this target audience, adults and even boys are likely to get some pleasure from it.
Two young men are hiking when they get lost in a storm. They wind up in a tiny village with only a handful of people living there. It seems that a dam under construction is going to flood the place, so most folks have moved out.
They spend the night in the home of an elderly couple whose son was killed in World War Two. (That may not seem relevant, but it plays a part in the plot.) The other inhabitants of the doomed village are an ex-military man, his adult son and daughter, a somewhat shady fellow, and the former showgirl who lives with him.
Things get weird when this quiet English village develops a tropical climate overnight. Bizarre plants, some like hot air balloons and some like birds, show up. The surrounding countryside changes into a land of earthquakes and volcanoes. What the heck happened?
We soon find out that people from a time thousands of years from now use time travel to transport folks hundreds of thousands of years into the future. Why? Because the future people face an all-encompassing disaster, and want to start human life all over again in the extreme far future.
(They only select folks in the past who were going to be wiped out of history anyway. The village was just about to be buried under a huge landslide, leaving no evidence behind.)
The rest of the book shows our reluctant time travelers exploring, figuring out a way to survive, and fighting among themselves. The two young women pair up with a couple of the men, but not in the way you might expect.
Near the end, the plot turns into a murder mystery, which seems a little odd. The conclusion is something of a deus ex machina. Otherwise, it's an OK read. The characters are interesting.
Fall is a time of nostalgia and anticipation. We gaze at the past, and ponder the future. Our next book features a lead character who has a lot to look back on, and plenty to concern him coming up.
The book takes its title from a famous painting by 19th century Swiss artist Arnold Böcklin.
The artist created several versions of the work. This is one of them.
Francis Sandow, our narrator, started off as a man of our own time. (There are hints that he fought in Vietnam, or at least somewhere in Southeast Asia.) He went on to travel on starships in a state of suspended animation, so he is still alive many centuries from now. In fact, he's one of the wealthiest people in the galaxy.
(Some of this is deduction on my part. The narrator only offers bits and pieces of his life throughout the text. The same might be said about the book's complex background. The author makes the reader work.)
Francis made his fortune by creating planets as an art form. If that isn't god-like enough for you, he's also an avatar of an alien deity, one of many in their pantheon. It's unclear if this is a manifestation of psychic power or a genuine case of possession. The mixing of religion and science in an ambiguous fashion is reminiscent of the Zelazny's previous novel Lord of Light.
Somebody sends Francis new photographs of friends, enemies, lovers, and a wife, all of whom have been dead for a very long time. He also gets a message from an ex-lover (still alive) stating that she is in serious trouble.
This sets him off on an odyssey to multiple planets, as he tracks down an unknown enemy. Along the way, he participates in the death ritual of his alien mentor. The climax takes place on the Isle of the Dead, a place he created on one of his planets as a deliberate imitation of Böcklin's painting.
The bare bones of the plot fail to convey the exotic mood of the book, or Zelazny's style. His writing is informal at times; in other places, he uses extremely long, flowing sentences you can get lost in.
As I've suggested, this novel requires careful reading. Stuff gets mentioned that you won't understand until later, so be patient. I found it intriguing throughout. If the ending seems a little rushed, that's a minor flaw.
About fifty years before the novel begins, aliens arrived on Earth with what seemed to be benevolent intent. Well, you know what they say about Greeks bearing gifts.
The Kaltichs brought longevity treatments and advanced medical techniques that could replace any damaged organ. The catch is that Earthlings have to pay a high price for these things.
There's also the problem of overpopulation. The Kaltichs promised to give humans the secret of instantaneous transportation to a large number of habitable planets. It's been half a century, and we're still waiting.
Because the longevity treatments have to be renewed every ten years, and the Kaltichs deny them to anybody they don't like, Earthlings are subservient to them. We have to call them sire, and punishment with a special whip that inflicts extreme pain follows any transgression.
Our protagonist, Martin Preston, is a secret agent for S.T.A.R., the Secret Terran Armed Resistance. (I guess we're still not over the spy craze, with its love of acronyms.) The agency asks him to imitate a Kaltich and infiltrate one of their centers, which are off limits to humans.
(I should mention here that the Kaltichs are physically identical to Earthlings. That seems unlikely, but it's a plot point and we get an explanation later.)
Because the previous fellow who tried this had his hands cut off and sent back to S.T.A.R., Martin understandably refuses. An incident occurs that changes his mind. With the help of a brilliant female surgeon (who, like most of the women in a James Bond adventure, is gorgeous and sexually available), he sets out on his dangerous mission.
What follows is imprisonment, torture, escape, killings, double crosses, and the discovery of the big secret of the Kaltichs, which you may anticipate. The book is similar to a Keith Laumer slam bang thriller, if a little more gruesome. Hardly profound, but it sure won't bore you.
Three stars.
There you have it, folks. Take ten and enjoy all the new novels coming out. We'll be back next month to help you figure out which ones to put at the top of the pile.
A trio of new works, two of them inside the same book, take readers from the far reaches of the galaxy to the depths of the ocean. (Sounds like last month's Galactoscope, doesn't it?) Let's start with the latest Ace Double, containing two short novels (or long novellas) set in interstellar space.
This is an expansion of the novella Adaptation, which appeared in the August 1960 issue of Astounding/Analog. (That's during the brief period when both titles appeared on the cover of the magazine. Confusing, isn't it?)
Cover art by John Schoenherr.
The Noble Editor thought it was so-so at the time. Let's see if it's any better, like fine wine, after seven years.
Cold War Two
Long before the story begins, Earth colonized a large number of planets with about one hundred people per world. Over several generations, the colonies degenerated from scientifically advanced to primitive, due to the lack of support from the home world. Then each slowly made their way back up to a particular level of technological sophistication.
(If this sounds like a really lousy way to populate the galaxy, I agree. The author is clearly more interested in setting up a thought experiment than in ensuring plausibility.)
It seems that two inhabited worlds orbit the star Rigel. One is similar to Italy during the time of feudalism. The people on the other are similar to the Aztecs.
Rigel is part of the constellation Orion; one of his feet, to be exact.
Earth sends a team of folks to Rigel to bring the colonies up to a modern level of technology. They argue a bit about what to do, then finally agree to split up. One group will bring the free market to the feudalists, and the other will impose a state-controlled economy on the Aztecs. It's capitalism versus communism all over again! Long story short, things don't work out very well for either bunch.
The main difference between the original novella and this expanded version is the addition of two female members to the visiting Earthlings. Both are physicians. Unfortunately, they are pure stereotypes.
One is the Good Girl, doing the best she can to help the colonists while remaining loyal to the man she loves. (To add a little romantic tension to the plot, the author has him choose to go to the Aztec planet while she opts to work on the Italian planet.)
The other is the Bad Girl, teasing the men by exchanging the standard uniform for a sexy gown before they even reach Rigel. On the Aztec planet, she sets herself up as the mistress of whichever fellow happens to be in power at the time, and rules over the locals like a wicked queen.
The author's point seems to be that both pure capitalism and pure communism are seriously flawed. I've seen this theme come up in his work before, most recently in his spy yarn The Throwaway Age in the final issue of Worlds of Tomorrow.
This story isn't quite as blatant a fictionalized essay as that one was, but it comes close. Besides the two-dimensional female characters, we have male characters that are mostly either fools or scoundrels. It's readable, certainly, and you may appreciate its satiric look at humanity's attempts to create workable socioeconomic systems.
Three stars.
Naval Maneuvers
Born in England but living in Australia since 1956, A. Bertram Chandler has been working on merchant ships since 1928. It's no wonder, then, that the space-going vessels in his stories often seem like sailing ships. One can almost smell the salt air and hear the wind rippling in the sails.
Many of his semi-nautical tales feature the character of John Grimes, sort of a Horatio Hornblower of the galaxy. My esteemed colleague David Levinson recently reviewed a pair of these yarns that appeared in If. Why do I bring this up? You'll see.
This latest work once again makes space seem like the ocean, and those who journey through it like seadogs. (It also serves as a nice bridge between Reynold's interstellar allegory and the sea story I'll discuss later.)
All Hands On Deck!
The starship Wanderer is under the command of a husband-and-wife team. She's the owner and he's the captain. Among the crew are another married couple and a couple of bachelors. They accept the challenge of transporting several Iralians back to their home world.
Iralians are very human-like aliens. So similar to people, in fact, that romance blooms between one of the bachelors and one of the passengers. (They're both telepaths, which must help.) There are some important differences, however.
The Iralians have a very short gestation period, and multiply rapidly. Their offspring inherit the learned skills of their parents, in a kind of mental Lamarckism. Unfortunately, the combination of these traits makes them valuable slaves; the owners have a steady supply of fully trained workers.
During the voyage, a trio of pirate ships threatens the Wanderer. (The identity of the would-be slavers on these vessels is an interesting plot twist, which I won't reveal here.) In order to evade the attackers, our heroes take the very dangerous gamble of entering the Horsehead Nebula.
The real Horsehead Nebula, which is aptly named.
It seems that no starship has ever returned from the nebula, and there are indications that it does something weird to time and space. In fact, the Wanderer enters a parallel universe, where they encounter a ship under the command of none other than John Grimes! Suffice to say that the meeting leads to a way to exit the nebula safely and defeat the pirates.
Unlike Reynolds, Chandler doesn't seem to have any particular axe to grind. This is strictly an adventure story, meant to entertain the reader for a couple of hours. It succeeds at that modest goal reasonably well. It's not the most plausible story ever written, and you won't find anything profound in it, but it's not a waste of time.
Three stars.
The Patron Saint of Science Fiction
Margaret St. Clair (no relation to actress Jill St. John, who recently appeared in the big budget flop The Oscar, co-written by none other than Harlan Ellison) has been publishing fiction since the late 1940's. Much of her short fiction is strikingly original, with a haunting, dream-like mood. (I particularly like her stories for The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, which appear under the pseudonym Idris Seabright.)
She's offered readers a few short novels as halves of Ace Doubles, as well as the full-length novel Sign of the Labrys. Both the Noble Editor and I agreed that this was a unique, very interesting mixture of apocalyptic science fiction and mysticism, if not fully satisfying. The book featured quite a lot of lore from the neo-pagan religion Wicca, and I understand that St. Clair was initiated into that faith last year.
Dolphins have appeared in science fiction for a while now, from Clarke's 1963 work mentioned below to this year's French novel Un animal doué raison by Robert Merle. Some of this seems to be inspired by recent attempts to communicate with dolphins by the controversial researcher John C. Lilly. Or maybe they've just been watching reruns of Flipper, which was cancelled last month. In any case, let's see how this new book handles the theme.
People of the Sea
(Apologies to Arthur C. Clarke for stealing the title of his Worlds of Tomorrow serial, now available in book form as Dolphin Island. I hope he's too busy scuba diving off the coast of Ceylon to notice.)
Appropriately, the novel is narrated by a dolphin. He relates how three human beings came to the aid of his kind.
The first is Madelaine. She is particularly sensitive to telepathic messages sent by the dolphins. So much so, in fact, that she suffers from amnesia when they call her. Nonetheless, she answers their distress signal by journeying to a small, rocky, uninhabited island off the coast of Northern California.
Next is Swen. The dolphins don't directly contact him, the way they do Madelaine, but he overhears the message and shows up at the same place.
Last is Doctor Lawrence. He becomes involved with Madelaine when he treats her amnesia. Although he has no ability at all to receive psychic messages from the dolphins, he follows her to the island.
The dolphins, some of whom have learned to speak English, are fed up with the way that human beings pollute their sea and keep their kind captive. They seek help from the unlikely trio.
At first, this involves rescuing several dolphins from a military facility. The plan is to use a powerful explosive device (which Swen has to steal) to trigger an earthquake that will break open the seawall that keeps them in captivity. Although the three agree to take this action, which will inevitably cause great destruction and is likely to cost human lives, they try to minimize the harm done to their own kind by timing the quake when the fewest number of people will be around.
If this all seems to strain your willingness to suspend your belief, wait until you see what we find out next.
It seems that both dolphins and humans are the descendants of beings who came from a planet orbiting the star Altair (hence the title.) They showed up on Earth about one million years ago. Some chose to remain on land, others went to the ocean. Over many thousands of years, they diverged into the two species.
Altair, located near a very appropriate constellation.
The dolphins remember the covenant made so long ago, that the two groups would remain on friendly terms. Betrayed by the forgetful humans, they are ready to use any means possible to end the abuse of their kind. The next step is to use ancient technology from Altair to melt the ice caps. As you might imagine, this leads to an apocalyptic conclusion.
Unsurprisingly, given the author, this is an unusual book. It combines a science fiction thriller with a great deal of mysticism. The author is obviously incensed by the way people enslave dolphins and dump poison into the ocean. The reader is definitely supposed to root for the dolphins in their war against humanity.
The three human characters are quite different from each other. Swen is probably the most normal, and serves as the novel's action/adventure hero, at least to some extent. Madelaine is an ethereal creature, almost like some kind of mythic being. Doctor Lawrence is an enigma. He informs the military about the dolphins, leading to an attack on the island, but he is also a misanthrope, the most eager to wreak destruction on humanity.
Like Sign of the Labrys, The Dolphins of Altair is a fascinating novel with disparate elements that don't always quite mesh, and an odd combination of science fiction themes with the purely mystical. I can definitely say that I'm glad I read it, and that it is likely to stay in my memory for some time to come.
Bulmer is very much a mixed author for me. He has produced great works, like The Contraption or City Under the Sea. But also, less interesting pieces, such as Behold the Stars or his Terran Space Navy series.
Which Bulmer do we get in To Outrun Doomsday? Luckily for me, it is definitely the former, as I think this is his best work to date.
Balance of Imagination
I think it is worth quickly addressing the issue some readers have with Bulmer’s work. Much of his writing hew very close to real world scenarios, such as war novels. For some people this presents the same issue I have seen discussed in the recent Star Trek episode Balance of Terror.
They ask, “if you have the limitless possibilities of science fiction, why would you do submarine warfare in space?” I say, “if you have the limitless possibilities of science fiction, why wouldn’t you do submarine warfare in space!”
As such, it is with the scenario To Outrun Doomsday. Jack Waley is a gadabout on a starship which seems to be acting as a cruise liner. He sees himself as a kind of old-fashioned rake, seducing women and generally pleasure seeking across the galaxy.
This life falls apart when an accident befalls the ship he is on and his lifeboat crashes on a planet that has, apparently, never encountered people from Earth. There he lives with the tribe of “The Homeless Ones” learning their ways whilst also facing the hostile “The Whispering Wizards”.
This all seems like it could be an old-fashioned castaway story in a boy’s adventure magazine from the 30s, and I am sure his critics will say as such. But there are a number of elements that raise it up.
To Outrun Cliches
Firstly, when Bulmer’s writing is good, it is so good it fully takes me away into his world in a way I am in awe of. For example:
The ship blew.
How then describe the opening to nothingness of the warmth and light and air of human habitation?
From the fetus of womblike comfort to space-savaged death-the ship blew. Metal shivered and sundered. Air frothed and vanished. Heat dissipated and was cold. Light struggled weakly and was lost in the multiplicity of the stellar spectra. The ship blew.
Here and there in the mightily-puny bulk, pockets of air and light and warmth yet remained for a heartbeat, for the torturing time to scream in the face of death. Some, a pitiful few persisted for a longer time.
But then is also at other times willing to bring in silliness when the scene requires it:
“I’m sorry that-“ Waley began.
A hand shook. “Quiet!”
Waley stopped being sorry that.
These are merely a couple of examples. Bulmer uses a full literary toolbox to make an exciting and engaging adventure.
Then you have Waley’s character. He is the kind of fellow you expect to hang around in bars until the wee small hours and take Playboy articles as his guide to life. But as we are not meant to see this as something to admire, he is at different times referred to as “a walking lecherous horrid heap of contagion” and ends getting chained up as a galley slave for following his licentious urges. Throughout we follow the journey of him learning there are more valuable things in life than carnal pleasures and forging real friendships with people.
At the same time this is balanced by the abundance of different women throughout the story. Their journeys are independent of Waley’s adventures and often are quite dismissive of him. They are simply well-rounded inhabitants of the world.
Further, this surface story is slowly revealed to be covering up something deeper. There are intriguing breadcrumbs laid out for you. For example, Waley never sees any children, buildings collapse and no one takes any notice, and, strangest of all, praying for any item (assuming it is not or has not been living) results in it appearing instantly. I will not reveal the mystery, but it adds strangeness to what could be a middling space fantasy tale like Norton’s Witch World saga.
The story is not without flaws. Whilst the emotional conclusion is very strong, tying up the main plot mystery made me put my head into my hands at how silly it is (if also reminding me how important it is I get it to the weeding).
It also occasionally goes into racist language when describing enemies. For example:
Small wiry yellow men with spindly legs and bulbous bodies, with Aztec lips and grinning idiot faces
These are very rare occurrences and not a core part of the story, but still wish they had been excised.
I also wished that the book was longer. Whilst I noted there were a number of interesting characters, particularly among the women, we do not have as much time with them as I would have liked. If it could have been allowed another 40 or so pages, it would just have allowed the extra space needed to flesh them out.
The jacket for Silverbob's latest novel notes that he "and his wife live in Riverdale, New York, in a large house also occupied by a family of cats (currently four permanent ones), a fluctuating number of kittens, and thousands of books, some of which he has not written." This only slightly overstates the prodigiousness with which Mr. Silverberg cranks out the prose. Sometimes, Bob gives it his all and turns out something rather profound like his recent Blue Fire series, which was serialized in Galaxy and came out in book form this month as To Open the Sky.
Other times, we get books like The Time Hoppers, clearly produced in a pressured week, perhaps between passion projects. The short novel takes place in the 25th Century, but this is no Buck Rogers future. Rather, we have an overpopulated dystopia where almost everyone is on the dole, society is calcified into numbered levels of privilege, and most live in enormous buildings that soar into the sky as well as plunge deep in the ground. Within this crowded world, we follow the viewpoint of Quellen, a Level Seven local police boss, hot on the trail of the time hoppers. These are folks who are leaving the future for the spaciousness of the past. They know these temporal refugees exist because they are already recorded in the history books. Can Quellen stop them before the trickle becomes a flood? Should he?
There are a lot of problems with this book. Quellen is a fairly unlikeable person, a sort of Winston Smith-type at the outer levels of the party, enjoying a few illicit pleasures like a second home in Africa (conveniently depopulated by a century-old plague). Society in the future makes no sense–it seems an extrapolation of a 1950s view of American society, where the men work and the women are shrieking housewives or grasping adventuresses. Never mind that, in a world where everyone is unemployed, why there should be a sharp dichotomy between male and female roles goes unexplained. Just "Chicks, am I right, folks?"
There a sort of shallowness to the book, and the time travel bit is almost incidental. Particularly since, as the hoppers have already been recorded in the past, any efforts to stop them in the future must inevitably be thwarted. Also, the idea that these hoppers wouldn't be of prime concern to the powers-that-be (or in the case of this book, actually just one power-that-is) far earlier than four years into the hopping seems ludicrous.
But, I have a perverse penchant for books with the word "Time" in the title, however misleading, as well as stories that have explicit social ranks for people. And Silverberg, even on a bad day, has a minimum threshold of competence.
So, three stars.
And that's that! While you're waiting for the next Galactoscope, come join us in Portal 55 to chat about these and other great titles:
We have to be told twice that it's the Fabulous Flamingo.
Here we go with my first magazine review of 1967. I'm glad to say that the year begins with a bang, as the lead novella in the latest issue of Worlds of Tomorrow is a knockout. Will the rest of the stories and articles be anywhere near as good? Let's find out.
Delany has already published several novels, but I believe this is his first appearance in a science fiction magazine. It's certainly an auspicious debut. That's not such a big surprise, as his book Babel-17 won high praise from my esteemed colleague Cora Buhlert, and was the overwhelming choice for the most recent Galactic Stars award for Best Novel.
Illustrations by Jack Gaughan.
The narrator begins with an account of an incident in his past that puts him in a bad light. While living on a planet with two suns, as part of a group marriage, he destroyed a miniature ecological system built by the family's children, as shown above. (I pictured the thing, which is something like a super-sophisticated ant farm, as quite a bit larger.)
Two of the alien organisms released during the narrator's destruction of the object. I pictured them as much smaller.
Several years later, the narrator is at the edge of the galaxy, working as a mechanic for starships. For a while, it seems as if the opening section of the story has little to do with the rest, but it all ties up at the end.
This is a future time when travel throughout the Milky Way is possible, but not beyond its borders. Attempting to do so results in insanity and death for the unfortunate extragalactic voyager. That is, unless you happen to be one of the rare people known as golden. (The word is used as a noun here, and serves as both the singular and plural form. Delany displays his interest in language in this story just as he did in the novel mentioned above.)
Golden have both hormonal and psychological abnormalities that allow them to travel to other galaxies, bringing back rare and valuable items. They are also mean or stupid, as one character says, prone to foolish actions and sudden violence. As you'd expect, ordinary people resent them, not only for their unpleasant personalities, but out of jealousy for their ability to escape the Milky Way.
The narrator and a young man encounter an unconscious golden. (It seems that a disease brought back from another galaxy causes intermittent blackouts.)
Carrying a golden.
They bring the golden to a woman who is a projective telepath. Let me explain. That means that she causes other people to experience her sensations. She was also born addicted to a hallucinatory drug taken by her mother. Combined with her telepathic ability, the drug allowed her to serve as a psychiatric therapist, helping golden overcome psychic shock caused by their journeys.
The projective telepath. She may be the most fascinating character in the story.
Another incident involving two golden leaves the narrator with a starship designed to travel to other galaxies. The question of what should be done with it leads to multiple complications, both tragic and hopeful. (I haven't even mentioned the narrator's assistant, who plays a major part.)
There's also a dramatic scene involving waldoes.
I have only given you a small taste of a very intricate story. Despite having the depth and complexity of a full-length novel, it is never confusing. The richly imagined future reminds me a bit of Cordwainer Smith, although Delany's narrative style is much more intimate than Smith's mythologizing.
The writing is beautiful, and the author creates living, breathing characters. The plot deals with love, hate, marriage, parenthood, and much more. It will break your heart and bring you much joy.
Five stars.
The Psychiatric Syndrome in Science Fiction, by Sam Moskowitz
The indefatigable historian of fantastic fiction offers a look at the use of psychology in the genre. He traces this theme back to Robert Louis Stevenson's famous novella Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, then talks about a lot of other stories.
A big chunk of the article deals with the works of David H. Keller, a practicing psychiatrist. I'm not convinced that all the Kelleryarns discussed here are really relevant to the topic.
There's also discussion of The Jet Propelled Couch, a chapter from the book The Fifty-Minute Hour by psychologist Robert M. Lindner. (He also wrote the book Rebel Without a Cause, which gave its title, if nothing else, to the famous movie of the same name.) This is the true account of one of Linder's patients, who became obsessed with a fantasy world in which he was the hero of outer space adventures. Although quite interesting, the case has little to do with the subject of psychiatry in science fiction.
The article wanders all over the place, and it is not very well organized. It's not as dull as some of the author's endless listings of old stories, but it's not his best work, either.
Two stars.
The Planet Wreckers, by Keith Laumer
Illustrations by Gray Morrow.
Our hapless hero is in a crummy hotel room, trying to get some sleep, when he hears noises coming from above. Since he's in a Laumer story, he doesn't just call the front desk. He climbs up the fire escape to see what's going on. What seems at first to be a lovely young woman turns out to be a weird alien being.
She's some kind of outer space law enforcement agent. It seems that other weird aliens plan to cause a series of disasters on Earth, in order to record them as a form of entertainment. (Think of Hollywood spectaculars.) She doesn't care about the fact that huge numbers of human beings will be killed; she just wants to protect the environment.
The alien policewoman and our pajama-clad protagonist go zooming all over the place in her flying machine, trying to stop the catastrophes. It all winds up with the hero inside the alien studio, so to speak, and with another revelation about his female companion.
Can you tell this isn't the most serious story in the world?
Laumer writes a lot of comic adventures, along with serious ones, but I think this may be the silliest yet. There doesn't seem to be any real satire here, although I guess you can interpret it as a dig at the movie industry. It's full of goofy-looking aliens with wacky names, and plenty of slapstick mishaps. If you're looking for a brainless farce, go no further.
Two stars.
Sun Grazers, by Robert S. Richardson
Inspired by the appearance of the comet Ikeya-Seki, which was visible from late 1965 to early 1966, the author discusses comets that pass close to the sun. He also talks about how comet groups form (larger comets breaking up into smaller ones) and whether the paths of comets suggest a tenth planet beyond Pluto (inconclusive.) The article ends with the author's own struggle to view Ikeya-Seki, and how he made a rough guess as to the size of its tail.
The author describes Ikeya-Seki as a disappointment. (The name comes from two Japanese comet hunters who discovered it independently, by the way.) Other accounts of which I am aware state that it was very bright, visible in the daytime. The article is moderately informative, but a little on the dry side. Like the author's experience with the comet, it isn't as spectacular as one might wish.
Two stars.
Station HR972, by Kenneth Bulmer
The superhighways of the future, where vehicles travel two hundred miles per hour and more, require teams of specialists to deal with accidents. This includes transplanting limbs and internal organs. All in a day's work.
There's not really much plot here. It's kind of a slice-of-life story, detailing the activities of the folks who have to deal with the gruesome effects of high speed collisions. I'm reminded of Rick Raphael's story Code Three, which had a very similar theme. Frankly, that one was a lot better.
Two stars.
About 2001, by David A. Kyle
No, this isn't an article about the first year of the next millennium. It's a very brief piece concerning the upcoming movie 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Director Stanley Kubrick (with beard) and writer Arthur C. Clarke (without hair.)
There's not a lot of information here, as the creators are keeping things hush-hush. What we do find out is intriguing. Will the finished product live up to Clarke's prediction that It'll be the greatest science fiction picture ever made? Only time will tell.
I can't really blame the author of this article for frustrating my desire to learn more about the film, as he was obviously prevented from finding out too much. That doesn't keep me from wishing it were a lot longer.
Two stars.
The Shape of Shapes to Come, by Robert Bartlett Riley
An architect imagines what buildings and cities might be like in the future. This involves three areas of prediction. From easiest to most difficult, these are technological changes; what people will choose to do with these techniques; and how this will change society.
Topics discussed include advanced building materials, new forms of lighting, and greater control of interior environments. The author laments the lack of mass-produced housing, similar to the way automobiles are manufactured, which would greatly reduce the price of a home. In the most imaginative section, he dreams of shelters made from force fields rather than physical materials, and of personal Life Packs that would supply one with all the functions of a house.
I found this slightly interesting, but rather vague in its predictions and not very exciting. Despite the discussion of a couple of wild possibilities, the author seems to think that architecture is going to remain conservative for quite some time, avoiding the futuristic visions of science fiction writers.
Two stars.
The Fifth Columbiad, by Richard C. Meredith
Illustrations by Hector Castellon.
Many centuries before the story begins, aliens destroyed all humans on Earth. In what must have been the most embarrassing mistake of all time, they thought the humans were other beings who were their deadly enemies.
The only people to survive were those who happened to be on starships at the time. Now, their descendants make war on the aliens, capturing their starships to add to the human fleets.
The plot involves the captain and crew of one starship. The vessel is badly damaged in battle, just barely managing to escape. The commander and a team of volunteers remain on the derelict vessel, hoping to lure an alien starship into docking with it so they can sneak aboard the enemy vessel and seize it for themselves.
Carnage on the starship.
This yarn reminds me of war stories in which a small team of commandos attacks an enemy installation against overwhelming odds. The Guns of Navarone in space, if you will. You know that some of the volunteers will be killed in action, but that the mission will succeed. I thought there might be some kind of ironic ending, given the mistake that started the war in the first place, but nothing like that happens.
There's some odd, smirking sexual content in this story. At the risk of sounding like a prude, I didn't think it was necessary to point out that the pseudo-reptilian aliens, who have a matriarchal society, have breasts like human women.
Not shown here, for reasons of good taste, I assume.
There's one volunteer who's only there so he can be a hero, thus earning the sexual favors of admiring women. The author tells us the female crew members wear nothing but skirts — no shirts or blouses, apparently — and gives us a fair amount of detail about the heroine's panties. (The excuse is that the interior of the alien ship is hot and humid, so the humans have to strip down to the basics.)
Two stars.
Coming To A Bad End
This issue really went into a nosedive after soaring to the heights of imaginative literature with Delany's novella. Scuttlebutt has it that Worlds of Tomorrow is on its last legs. That's too bad, as the magazine gave readers some very good stuff, along with a lot of not-so-good stuff. Very much a curate's egg, I'm afraid.
Cartoon by Wilkerson, from the May 22, 1895 issue of Judy.
A better known cartoon by George du Maurier, from the November 9, 1895 issue of the better known magazine Punch. Too similar to be a coincidence, I'd say.
In a follow-on from last month’s comments, the rumours of falling sales on both Brit magazines seem to be holding water. This is worrying, especially when both magazines seem to be on a roll, but the one I like most is the lesser-selling of the two. New Worlds definitely presses buttons, but SF Impulse is the one I remember most.
Mike Moorcock’s Editorial this month begins with the sad bit of news that Cordwainer Smith has died and then goes onto write of an aborted attempt to celebrate the centenary of H. G. Wells’ birth.
It is perhaps the last part that may be of interest to regular readers, as Mike (or is it Assistant Editor Langdon Jones?) lets slip some of the findings of the latest New Worlds reader’s survey. Unsurprisingly, the results reflect the changing state of the genre, something that regular readers will not be unaware of.
To the stories!
Echo Round His Bones (Part 1 of 2), by Thomas M Disch
Mr. Disch is everywhere in the Brit magazines at the moment. This month, for example, we have a serial novel and an interview from him over in SF Impulse (more later.) We’ve had poetry, horror stories, science fiction stories, funny stories and weird stories, all in the last six months or so. And here we have the first part of a novel, which takes up almost half of the issue.
Illustration by James Cawthorn
The story is one that uses a lot of science fictional cliches but blends them up into a modern tale. In the near future scientist Panofsky has invented an instantaneous matter transmitter (Star Trek fans, take note.) Captain Nathan Hansard is a United States officer who is transferred with his platoon from Camp Jackson Pensylvania base to Camp Jackson Mars via the transmitter known as The Steel Womb. However, there is an unfortunate side effect. Hansard discovers that whilst being transferred he becomes left in limbo in some sort of in-between realm. As a result, although he is still on Earth, he is like a ghost in that he can walk through walls but cannot communicate easily with people in the ‘normal’ world.
As if that wasn’t strange enough, he also finds out that there are others stranded in this space who can interact with him normally. This is not always good, nor easy – Hansard finds himself pursued by his own soldiers, for example. Much of the middle section of this part of the story is about how Hansard comes to terms with his new environment and survives. He visits his ex-wife and son, only to find that he has become a voyeur and cannot communicate with them. He also has dreams of himself being a soldier and being involved in horrible acts in an unnamed place which looks and sounds like China.
At this point Hansard is rescued by Bridgetta, who we then discover is the wife of Panofsky, the inventor of the transmitter.
It’s a little wobbly to start with. Hansard does not come across well in the first couple of chapters — arrogant and generally unpleasant, which is not an ideal start of a character described as “a hero”. There’s also the odd major dollop of exposition in a tell-not-show kind of way. However, once the plot settles, it is exciting and memorable, shocking and interesting. The fact that there were points where I honestly couldn’t tell where this one was going makes this a good thing. 4 out of 5.
Conjugation, by Chris Priest
We’ve met Chris here before, in the May 1966 issue of Impulse with The Run. This one is different, attempting to be like Ballard’s recent work, cut up into initially disparate sections: a newspaper report, part of a speech for the President, a transcript of a videotape, an entry in an emergency-log and so on, with the verbiage kept to a minimum. Its plot is typically unclear, more an exercise in style but seems to be about an astronaut involved in an accident which seems to involve some sort of implosion. Whilst I liked the fact that the writer is trying to push the genre envelope a little, it didn’t really work for me. In the end no one does this sort of thing like Ballard. 3 out of 5.
Now this was a surprise. This is a Pavane story, a series recently published in Science Fantasy, and to all intents and purposes finished. Admittedly, it was very well regarded and not just by me.
This one is a smaller vignette piece, focussed on a young teenage lobster fisherman named Becky. One night she sees a White Boat out at sea. She becomes obsessed with it and on its return ends up on it. The boat is a smuggler boat, bringing forbidden technology from France to England. Becky is returned to where she lives, to watch as the boat is shot at by soldiers of the Pope.
There’s a lot of the usual Roberts-in-more-serious-mood touches, which I liked, and even some odd vaguely sexual ones, which felt a little out of place. To be honest, the link to the world of Pavane is minimal, but there are connections if you know what to look for to connect this story to the rest.
So why is this coda piece being published in New Worlds? I’m not really sure, but with Roberts acting as Managing Editor, artist and teller of Anita stories (see later) in SF Impulse, perhaps another Roberts story there this month would have been just too much.
I liked it but did not come away quite as impressed as I was with the other stories in the series. 3 out of 5.
How often have you heard about the weather being oppressive, moody or unsettling? In this story David makes “mood-weather” a reality in the future, where the weather does affect people’s moods, something which future generations pop pills like crazy to alleviate.
It’s good to see the return of an author who made such an impact with his first story published last year, even if more recent tales have been less impressive. However, this one I liked, perhaps because it deals with that most British of conversation topics!
Illustration by James Cawthorn
The rest of the story though does not quite live up its potential. TV reporter Roydon Greenback goes to find his wife Miriel lost in a time-storm, which leads to him being sixty-one years in the future from his original point. It doesn’t end well. Nothing especially wrong with this, it is just a bit predictable.
This one’s more like The Transfinite Choice (New Worlds, June 1966) than Traveller’s Rest (New Worlds, September 1965.) in that it has interesting ideas but not always used well. It does however introduce new words that could be scientific or just made up – chronismologists and poikilochronism, for example. Again, not his best work but far from his worst. 4 out of 5.
The Total Experience Kick, by Charles Platt
Illustration by Unknown Artist
The latest from Platt goes back to the land of The Failures(New Worlds, January 1966), which was all pop-culture and alternative lifestyle drug culture. Our hero is an industrial spy whose Total Experience machine can be used to intensify emotions through music. He is sent to infiltrate the opposition and see their latest development, with a girl involved to complicate things. It’s fun but a bit predictable, rather like rather Jerry Cornelius meets The Beatles, based around some sort of Heath Robinson contraption. I’m assuming that this story may be the inspiration for the cover picture this month. 3 out of 5.
The latest from Mr Ballard is a reprint (see Argosy, October) and also due out as part of a collection soon, I gather. Glanville and his wife Judith are able to travel time and space. They go to the fictional ship Pequod and see Ahab and his crew and talk of Glanville being The Flying Dutchman before the story turns into one of revenge. Still dark and moody but a surprisingly straightforward tale from J. G. It makes me think that this was written a while ago – it is more reminiscent of his Vermillion Sands story collection than more recent work like The Terminal Beach. 4 out of 5.
Book Reviews
This month Hilary Bailey covers a lot of books. This includes Roger Zelazny’s This immortal, Shoot at the Moon by William F. Temple, Make Room! Make Room! by Harry Harrison, Mandrake by Susan Cooper, Damon Knight’s The Other Foot, Sybil Sue Blue by Rosel George Brown, Shepheard Mead’s provocatorily-titled The Carefully Considered Rape of the World, Digits and Dastards by Frederik Pohl and The Fiery Flower by Paul I Wellman. Mike Moorcock also reviews and lists some, very briefly.
No Letters pages again this month.
Summing up New Worlds
Lots of returning authors this month. The Disch is the standout for me, although not perfect, whilst the rest are good but not great overall.
The Second Issue At Hand
And now to SF Impulse. The cover pushes the artwork to one side this month to herald the writers and point out that there is a new Editor-in-Chief, if you didn’t know.
The Editorial is mainly Harry’s version of what happened at the Trieste Film Festival, which Francesco Blamonti reported on last month. In short, the Italians are very enthusiastic about their sf, perhaps more so than us undemonstrative Brits. Does read a little bit like an essay entitled “What me and Arthur C Clarke did on our holidays.”
Inside Out by Kenneth Bulmer and Richard Wilson
The first story this month is co-written by a duo with a long pedigree here in Britain. Ken Bulmer is a prolific author who has been published since the 1950s, but whom you might not know in the US, and Richard Wilson similarly but since the 1940s. As you might expect then this is a straightforward SF tale of the “old-school” variety.
Petty crook Duke Walsh steals a metal box full of money from an alien here on Earth in secret. The box however is not just a storage box, but a replicator, which can replicate almost anything you want. However, Duke, not realising what the box is, takes the money and throws the box away. Short yet memorable. 3 out of 5.
Three Points on the Demographic Curve by Thomas M. Disch
A story from the seemingly ever-present at the moment Mr. Disch. In the overcrowded future of 2440 (I can see why Harry likes this!), Darien Milkthirst (great name!), Investigator, is given the task of finding 56 470 kidnapped children. The kidnapper, Prosper Ashfield, appears and tells Darien that he is from the future. As the Last Man on Earth he is collecting children to repopulate the future Earth. However, the children are indolent and look upon Prosper’s robot companions as their natural superiors. Frustrated, Ashfield begins to select children from throughout history to try and redress the issue. He then goes into deep-freeze to allow the robots to continue their work.
It’s all told in the jaunty manner that the story banner describes as “wry humour”. More good stuff from Mr Disch, that reminds me a little of Robert Sheckley – not a bad thing. 4 out of 5.
Another Anita the teenage witch story! Well, not quite, as the focus this time is upon Granny Thompson’s cat. I said that Anita’s last story felt like it was the series coming to an end and this story almost proves it. Anita is a popular character, but I think Keith is starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel with this one. Nevertheless, this is very different to Keith’s other offering in New Worlds this month. As ever with the Anita stories, The Familiar is fun and not to be taken too seriously, but not the strongest Anita story I’ve read. 3 out of 5.
Hell Revisited: An Interview with Kingsley Amis by Thomas M. Disch
Kingsley Amis is a respected author and commentator here in Britain. Harrison in his Editorial describes him as a “friendly critic”, and I would say that this is fair. His book New Maps in Hell has been seen as a critical work in recent years, extolling the virtues of sf to critics who would otherwise sneer at it.
With this in mind then, Disch’s interview is rather revelatory. Amis decries the recent writings of New Wave authors, claiming that to meet mass appeal it has lost some of its key characteristics. All of the authors hallowed in New Maps – Clarke, Pohl, Sheckley and Blish – are now criticised and of the new crowd, Messrs Aldiss, Budrys and Ballard have all disappointed. Even “run-of-the-mill science fiction is even more run-of-the-mill than it used to be”. All of this sounds a bit grumpy, yet Amis puts his points across amiably and logically. Kurt Vonnegut and Anthony Burgess come out of this well. Interesting and thought provoking.
The Real Thing by Eric C. Williams
Another returning author, last seen in Science Fantasy (whatever happened to that ?) back in August 1965. A story of what happens when Holt Mannering hires the spaceship Magpie and her crew for a day to get research for his next book. This involves getting as much realism as possible, which makes the trip rather dangerous. All written in a light-hearted manner – Heinlein it ain’t! 3 out of 5.
The Plot Sickens by Brian W. Aldiss
If the last story was amusing, this one is a lot more fun! In typical Aldiss manner, Brian takes the conceit begun by George Hay in his Synopsis story in Impulse 4 (June 1966) of writing reviews for imaginary science fiction novels and then spoofs it up even more. For example:
Beware the effect of an unbridled Aldiss! Makes its point whilst not savaging the genre, and a nice counterpoint to the Amis interview. Made me grin a lot. 4 out of 5.
The first part of this story I described last month as a “post-apocalyptic Norse fantasy” introduced us to Konrad Arflane in a future Earth covered in ice. There a man Konrad rescued, Pyotr Rorsefne of Friesgalt, had said that he would like Konrad to take his ship, the Ice Maiden, and sail to the North to find the legendary New York and there the mystical Ice Mother.
The second part this month deals with the exciting but gruesome hunting of whales, and is straight out of Moby Dick. Before the journey North, Konrad has agreed to take Pyotr’s daughter Ulrica (who Konrad fancies), her arrogant husband Janek Ulsenn, and Ulrica’s cousin Manfred whale hunting, along with the legendary harpoonist Long Lance Urquart.
However, the crew of the vessel are inexperienced in whale hunting and the ship is destroyed. Manfred rescues Ulrica but Manfred receives a broken arm and Janek’s legs are broken. Arflane finds himself more and more attracted to Ulrica. Despite her being married and Konrad being warned off by both Janek and Manfred they begin an affair.
The group return to find Pyotr has died. There is a funeral. The will splits the estate between Ulrica and Manfred, with Konrad receiving the command of the Ice Spirit. If he takes on the journey to find New York, the ship and any cargo become his. It is a further condition that Ulrica and Manfred go with Arflane on this quest. Urquart goes too.
With the journey begun, the relationships between the group are strained. After Ulrica’s initial enthusiasm, she now acts coolly towards Konrad. In return, Arflame is moody as a result of Ulrica’s rebuttal. Such taciturn emotions to those around him lead the crew to begin to rumour that Konrad brings a curse with him. There are enormous difficulties faced on their journey, and the story ends as the ship encounters an ice break.
So, lots of excitement. The pace of the first part is maintained this time around. The whale hunt is particularly gruesome, although that is to be expected. Generally, this second part is nearly as good as the first, although there is a dreadfully done sex scene and an utterly convenient plot point that takes the story down a notch. At one point, it all becomes rather like a science fiction version of Lady Chatterley’s Lover, which may be intentional.
Despite this, the story is intriguing and I still like the setting. 3 out of 5.
The Voice of the CWACC by Harry Harrison
Although this is the first time the CWACC have appeared here, there have been previous stories in this series (last seen in the June 1966 issue of Analog – traveller Marcus really didn't like it.) Personally, I am always a little dubious of editors publishing their own work in their magazine – it either displays a great deal of confidence in their own worth or conveniently fills up a gap, neither of which usually bode well. I’m not quite sure which this shows!
It’s a slight tale, meant to be amusing, of scientists (the CWACC) with a new invention – an aircraft recognition system to be used for ground defence. Because of the “highly secret, unpatented, incredibly artful components” it has, it is very successful. The new twist is that the machine is worked internally by a rat – take that, Daniel Keyes! Not bad – energetically silly and fairly forgettable. And no, I still don't know what CWACC stands for! 3 out of 5.
No Letters to the Editor this month.
Summing up SF Impulse
I like the Moorcock, even if it is not quite as good as the part last month. Disch impresses (again) and both the Anita story and Aldiss’s story made me laugh – not easy to do.
Summing up overall
New Worlds is a solid issue from regular writers. SF Impulse impresses more with its stories. Disch or Moorcock? Aldiss or Harrison? Keith Roberts or… Keith Roberts? Hmm. Both issues are good, but I’m going with the SF Impulse (again) this month.
Someone say "Christmas?" All the compliments of the season to you.
Move over James Bond and John Steed, there is a new dashing science fictional spy on the scene. I am of course referring to the latest hit from the team behind Doctor Who: Adam Adamant Lives!
An old-fashioned Victorian swashbuckling hero, Adam Adamant is frozen by a masked supervillain and buried under London. After being found by a construction crew, he finds himself resurrected in the strange world of London in 1966. Teaming up with a young mod woman named Georgina Jones, they solve unusual crimes such as satanic aristocrats or a soap manufacturer drugging the nation with plastic flowers.
However, it is not just Adam Adamant who is returning from hibernation. An old science fiction magazine is returning to the print.
A Brief History of the British SF Magazine
Unlike in the US, the UK did not have many SF specific publications before the war, with Walter Gillings' Tales of Wonder being a notable exception. After the war, Carnell, along with a group of other SF professionals, formed Nova publications and turned the former fanzine New Worlds into a professional magazine, beginning the market as we know it today.
A few of the many former British SF Magazines
As in America, during the magazine boom of the 50s there were numerous UK science fiction magazines but like their American counterparts these too disappeared as the decade wore on. When Scotland’s premier SF magazine Nebula finally went under in 1959, the UK market was only left with Carnell’s trio of New Worlds, Science Fantasy and Science Fiction Adventures. And when he decided to step away from them it looked like the British market might disappear.
What remained of British SF Magazines by 1960
However, recently this decline has been reversed. Whilst the US SF short fiction markets published around 750 pages of original fiction in July, the British equivalents managed around 450, for a country with only about a quarter of the people. Partially this is due to the continued success of New Worlds and Impulse, which have been able to go monthly and increase their page count. It is also due to other publications from the end of July; the latest New Writings anthology (which I will address shortly) and a new magazine entering the market, Alien Worlds.
The Former Fanzine
Alien Worlds Fanzine issue 15
Much like the early New Worlds, Alien Worlds (previously titled Alien) was a British fanzine also featuring film details and some fiction. Last year at Eastercon, editors Harry Nadler and Charles Partington talked to various authors and artists about the possibility of a new professional fiction magazine with full colour illustrations. The result is the new Alien Worlds.
Alien Worlds: Semi Professional or Gifted Amateur?
I think we need to take a brief moment to talk about the design of this. It is not in the pocketbook style we see in the other British publications, rather a stapled higher end fanzine with colour offset litho printing. The text also looks like it is hand-typed with the occasional mistakes you would expect from an amateur publication. Perhaps a new term is warranted. “Semiprozine”? Doesn't quite roll off the tongue…
Looking inside:
Editorial
Here Partington and Nadler lay out their complaints of the SF magazine genre. Namely that whilst everything else “from women’s weeklies to ‘build up’ encyclopedias” use full colour illustrations, science fiction publications simply look dull. They hope that Alien Worlds will change that with exciting artwork throughout and therefore make the most use of science fiction’s potential. It is an interesting point, albeit the counter argument is that it costs a lot more to do full colour art and you have to sacrifice space that could be better spent on words. But, then again, if the saying is correct that a picture is worth a thousand words, is this not also economical? It is not an argument I have thought about in depth but is certainly an interesting gauntlet to lay down.
Contact Man by Harry Harrison
Harrison is probably the most well-known contributor to the magazine, recently for his satirical Bill the Galactic Hero. Here he gives us another take on the Starship Troopers style of militaristic SF.
Chesney was found guilty of rebelling against the Admiral-Emperor, the military dictator of Earth, and was given a choice, the death penalty or service in the military. Choosing to sign-up he is made a contact man, whose role is to find natives on new planets and exterminate their villages.
Compared to relative zaniness of Bill, Contact Man is truly brutal. It gives an Orwellian take on militarism, positing a future where the “kill or be killed” mentality is extended to where people’s choices are genocide or suicide.
Disturbing but very worthy. Four Stars
Ken Slater’s Book Column
Slater is a major British fan personality probably best known for being one of the co-founders of the BSFA and producing Vector’s regular column on bookselling, General Chuntering.
In this column, he spends some time stating that this is a “book review column” and laying out his disdain for the field of literary criticism. He holds that the reviewer should simply lay out the facts of the book, if they liked it and possibly why “without being deeply Freudian or whatever.” He then goes on to state that he enjoyed Dobson’s two recent publications, Interstellar 2.5 by John Rankine and New Writings in SF 9 (reviewed below), whilst giving reasonably detailed summaries of the books. Personally, I do not find his style of reviewing that useful as I would rather be surprised by the plot and instead know why the reviewer did or did not enjoy it in depth. But perhaps there are a lot of Ken Slaters out there?
Flash by Allan Asherman
A summary of the 1936 film serial Flash Gordon along with some set photos. I guess this might be useful for some as reference material if they have never seen the picture but, honestly, it feels superfluous.
Two Stars
Not Human by Ken Bulmer
There is currently a major war between the Terrans and Reldans. Johnny Dent is crushed under a spaceship on the battlefield and will come to understand how far humanity needs to go to defeat the Terrans.
It is very curious they chose to put two such similar stories in the same issue. Of the two, this suffers in comparison to the Harrison. Not Human is over described, feeling less intense and bordering on pulpy.
Two Stars
1 Million Years BC
A small description of the upcoming film, two photos from it and (what I assume are) two pieces of concept art. Less an article and more an advertisement.
J. Ramsey Campbell is a new name to me, but he has apparently had several pieces published by Derleth’s Arkham House imprint. This story convinces me he is one to watch.
In 1960 our narrator begins to become fascinated with horror films, particularly those from Hammer. They spend much of their time going to see them, but they begin to be frustrated with the disturbances from the rest of the audiences. Is it just teenagers or something more sinister?
The fantasy elements are almost tangential to this, it is one of those horror tales where it could be all in the lead’s mind. However, that does not make it any less atmospheric or interesting. As someone else who loves watching Hammer Horror films, it is great to see this creepy take on the cinematic experience.
Four Stars
Illustrating titular leads from, clockwise from top left: Brides of Dracula, Dracula (1958), Dracula (1931), House of Dracula, Nosferatu, Dracula in Istanbul, El Vampiro
2001: A Space Odyssey
2001: A Space Odyssey is probably the most anticipated science fiction film at the moment, scheduled for release in early 1967 (whilst the book is meant to be coming out from Gollancz imminently). This short piece gives some nice insights into the behind the scenes, although it is very short.
Three Stars
In Conclusion
Textless version of the front cover on the rear
Whilst not amazing, this is also not a terrible start for this short magazine. It contains an interesting mix of fact, fiction and illustrations, and certainly achieves its aim of never looking boring.
One of the biggest problems that needs to be mentioned is the cost. Not having the backing of any major publishers and relying on fan distribution networks, the cost is 2/6 for just 63 pages. By comparison New Worlds cost 3/6 for almost triple the length. If the publication is to continue, they are going to need to work out a way to achieve the economies of scale needed to get a price point that is efficient for the consumer without compromising the ideas behind the magazine.
In stark contrast to Alien Worlds, New Writings stubbornly sticks to its unappealing covers, with Carnell instead concentrating on the contents. This quarter’s edition is focused on the problem of overpopulation, which seems to have become the idea of the moment. But what do Carnell’s crew make of it?
Poseidon Project by John Rackham
In this story, the best option for an overpopulated humanity’s future is to be able to live on the seabed. Much like the SEALAB experiments, a group of scientists are selected to live in an isolated habitat underwater. However, in this case it is a large and varied community for an entire year, with each of them paired off into married couples to better simulate future conditions. We follow Peter Sentry six months into the experiment, where he begins to wonder if the isolated conditions are causing psychological issues for some of those in charge.
This is quite old fashioned in its style, acting as an optimistic problem story. Each event is treated as a problem that can be resolved scientifically and a rational outlook can overcome any problem caused by humans. It is an interesting contrast to all the technophobic computer tales and apocalyptic visions of our future we are reading today.
It has one major flaw, however. For a story centered around psychology, Rackham does not fully develop his characters. They all feel like stock cliches. In particular the women characters fall far short. As such it ends up being much more of a surface level tale than it would otherwise have been with a little more depth added (puns-intended).
This could have been an interesting take on this theme, instead I will settle on giving it two stars.
Two partnered cave people, Zara and Kaalba, discover a spherical craft in the water. Inside they find a highly powerful and knowledgeable android, who Zara names Tros. Tros shares stories of humans who were able to build vast cities and travel to the stars. Zara wants to take it back to the tribe and use its knowledge, Kaalba is more wary of the android.
I found the story badly written, a cliched topic, and anti-feminist. Save yourself time and avoid it!
One star
Gifts of the Gods by Arthur Sellings
Sellings has not appeared in the New Writings anthologies before but has been in New Worlds several times, as well as being a successful author of SF novels.
In this piece, Brian Dudley and his wife Gwen have moved to the new town of Framley. In their garden Gwen finds a series of strange metal objects, shaped like skittles. After failing to turn up anything interesting in analysis he sells them to a local art dealer. More and more strange objects start appearing in town in larger and larger quantities. What could be causing these mysterious appearances?
There seems to be an interesting little subgenre appearing in the New Writings pages of late, telling of unnerving goings-on in the new towns. A kind of “Exurban Uncanny”. This is an excellent example of it, the premise is unusual enough to keep you intrigued and the end twist was a great one that I did not expect.
Four Stars
The Long Memory by William Spencer
Based in a future metropolis of ten billion people known only as the City, crime has been eliminated through the use of constant surveillance. The cost, however, is that this level of surveillance required on every citizen means that size of the records keeps increasing, and housing size is thus continually reduced as more space is made to store the recording tape of every person’s actions. Harben monitors the storage and equipment but appears to come across an underground conspiracy to destroy all the records.
There are definitely good parts to this story and the world is original. However, it also never quite feels like it elevates itself above an absurdist satire within the short word count.
Three Stars
Guardian Angel by Gerald W. Page
Returning after his excellent creepy tale in the last edition, Page gives us a tale of art and humanity.
Douglas Copeland is a very successful painter, and, like most rich people, he shares his home with a Guardian Angel, an AI known as Peter. Following the advice of Peter, Douglas has made a very successful career out of painting cogs. However, he is getting bored of the same design over and over again. When he meets a young woman named Philomene she convinces him to paint her, allowing Douglas to find a new passion in the human form. Peter, however, is not happy with this change.
This starts off well as an interesting debate on art and rationality. However, as it goes on it just fizzles out. Still, it is well written and very vivid tale.
Three Stars
Second Genesis by Eric Frank Russell
The prior appearances of Second Genesis
Our first reprint tale in over a year. This one, from the famed author’s back catalogue, was first published in Blue Book in 1952 and then reprinted in his first collection, Deep Space. Neither has been available for some time so this will be many people’s first reading of it. Unfortunately, there may be good reason it has been largely forgotten.
Arthur Jerrold is to take part in a space voyage around the solar system that will take him mere moments, but two thousand years will pass outside. If he survives the journey, he is to return to wherever humans are in the solar system so they can collect the results of the experiment. However, that may be harder than he realized.
You can probably guess where this is going. It is such an old cliché some editors have included it on lists of stories they will not accept. It is fairly told but nothing special.
Two Stars
Defence Mechanism by Vincent King
Finally New Writings has brought in a new writer!
To the best of my knowledge this is Vincent King’s first published work and, based on this, I very much hope it is not his last.
In the City, society has broken down into a series of small family tribes. They fight each other through the Corridors (common nouns referring to places are sometimes capitalized and sometimes not, I cannot quite work out the pattern) for territory and resources. At the same time, they have to deal with threats from Aliens coming in from the lower Levels and the Green beyond the Edge.
Our unnamed narrator has heard Aliens are coming back so organizes a hunt to track them down. Enroute, he encounters a tribe of Dwarfs (they seem to be just shorter people but this is how our narrator refers to them). The two groups discover that they are both suffering from issues of inbreeding and agree to women mating between the tribes. As the hunt continues it goes to areas beyond the order of the standard Corridors and our narrator is the only one willing to travel onward. In doing so he will discover the truth behind the City and the Aliens.
This is a story that is in the telling. Many of the revelations I had expected but, by putting it through our narrator’s perspective, it allowed me to explore a fantastical world and come to interesting conclusions. It ends up falling halfway between a "Dying Earth" style adventure and Pohl-esque satire. My favorite story in the collection and one that will stick with me for a while.
Five Stars
Summing up
Overall, this is a pretty good edition of the anthology with both a four and a five-star story and only a couple of shorter pieces being poor. The biggest issue is a certain level of chauvinism in some of the writing, which is probably not aided by some of Carnell’s introduction and the lack of any women authors in the series so far.
Between these two publications they have more good than bad in them, continuing to show there is new life in British Science Fiction yet.
Tune in to KGJ, our radio station! Nothing but the newest and best hits!
Over in England, they're swimming in science fiction anthology-esque shows, from Out of the Unknown to Doctor Who. What have we got Stateside? Lost in Space? My Favorite Martian? Ever since The Outer Limits and The Twilight Zone went off the air, TV has been something of an SF wasteland. That may all be changing come Fall.
A new show, called Star Trek is supposed to be kind of an anthology/serial — the same crew every week, but wildly different stories, many by actual science fiction authors. It could end up being like Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea or Forbidden Planet (i.e. pretty but dumb), or it could be the revolution necessary to bring science fiction to the masses. We won't know for another four months. I'm prepared for disappointment, but I also can't help being a little excited.
The Present
Until then, I've got a pocket full of futures right hear in front of me with this month's Fantasy and Science Fiction. As usual, it's a grab-bag of good and ho-hum, the latter in greater proportion… but whaddaya want for four bits?
Zelazny has made a name for himself with his fantastic but punchy prose, sort of an SFNal Hemingway, the vanguard of the American New Wave. For me, he's hit or miss, though his hits are worth waiting for. Storm looked like it was shaping up to be a hit, but I'd say it's a near miss.
Dozens of light years from Earth lies Tierra del Cygnus, a rustic "stopover" colony where folks on decades-long STL interstellar trips can break out of hibernation and stretch their legs before embarking for their final destination. Our protagonist, Godfrey Justin Holmes, is a Hell Cop, responsible for civic peace and weather safety with his 130 floating, autonomous metal eyes. He'd settled on Cygnus after fleeing a tragic personal loss, and on Cygnus, he believes he has found the key to mending his heart.
But in the midst of solving this long term problem, an acute short term one arises: the biggest storm his area of the planet has seen in recorded history is brewing. And for a week, it lashes with unabated fury.
I have the same problem with Storm that I did with Keith Roberts' Lady Anne: I'll be reading right along, enjoying the evocative prose, but after a few pages, I find myself wondering, "What the hell is all this? Get to the point, man!" Pretty writing isn't enough.
Beyond that, Storm feels utterly conventional. Take out the spaceflight trappings, which is easy to do as they are not central to the story, and you've got a thoroughly terrestrial story.
It's not bad, mind you. Zelazny does a masterful job of introducing the world and the relevant considerations in subtle snatches of detail rather than a single burst of exposition. Others might also enjoy the blunt, first person perspective; I eventually found it a little tiresome and too reminiscent of the better …and call me Conrad.
So, a minor work from a major player. Three stars.
The Little Blue Weeds of Spring, by Doris Pitkin Buck
A winged woman commits the horried crime of breeding outside her caste. Her punishment is exile to ground-bound humandom on Earth. But a plucked bird can still find ways to soar…
A nice poetic piece that's perhaps a bit too trivial. Three stars.
Care in Captivity Series: Tyrant Lizards Tyrannosaurus Rex, by Barry Rothman
This is one of those non-fact pieces, in this case, about raising a tyrant lizard what had been frozen for 70 million years. Very slight stuff. Two stars.
The Adjusted, by Kenneth Bulmer
A pair of caretakers mind the last vestiges of humanity, locked in cages, fed porridge, clad in rags, but hypnotized to think they are leading fulfilling lives. It's all part of the computers' plan, you see — a way of dealing with the hordes unemployed and pointless humans. They can't just be killed off, but they also can't be left to their own chaotic devices.
Of course, there's a sting in the story's tale, one that you'll see a mile away. It's not very clever, at first, but there's something compelling about a world of humans under the thrall of machines, all living in a shared fantasy world, slave to some sinister but inscrutable purpose.
It might make an interesting movie someday. Three stars.
Migratory Locusts, by Theodore L. Thomas
Thomas suggests that since locusts are just grasshoppers that get too crowded together, maybe humans will turn into something else altogether when Indian/Chinese conditions become the worldwide norm. I suppose there's an SF story in there somewhere. In this case, there's not enough here here to provoke much thought.
Two stars.
Memo to Secretary, by Pat de Graw
Pat de Graw offers up an ode to bureacratic paperwork, Stone Age style. Nicely done, particularly the line about the wing/ed/itorial bull.
Four stars.
A Quest for Uplift, by Len Guttridge
A carny agent out looking for freaks in a world where access to health care has largely addressed unwanted deformity follows a tip that leads to a genetic lineage of true levitators.
Unfortunately, elevation turns out to be involuntary — and communicative.
Guttridge's narrator tells the story in an unbroken harangue that will glaze your eyes over by page three. It also manages to be casually and offputtingly offensive several times over.
One star.
Forgive Us Our Debtors, by Jon DeCles
Ah, but then we have a rather sublime tale of an empath whose job is planetary evaluation. On the world of Red Kitra (a fine name), said empath is tasked with attuning to a world's entire ecology to determine if the glimmer of sentience lies therein. He ends up in a literal and metaphorical web of karma, learning the value of life, as well as the meaning of charity, in the process.
I may be a little biased as I happen to be friends with Jon, but I think this is inarguably the best piece of the issue. Four stars.
The Isles of Earth, by Isaac Asimov
Another list article from Dr. A, this time on the size and distribution of Earth's islands. Diverting, I suppose, but nothing you won't find at the beginning of any decent atlas (of which I have about two dozen — I like atlases!)
Three stars.
The Pilgrims, by Jack Vance
We wrap up with the penultimate tale of the ordeals of Cugel the Clever, hapless magical errand boy in the far future setting of The Dying Earth. As related in prior episodes, this is a set of stories that gets less appealing as it goes on, though Vance does mix in some amusing literate ribaldry.
This particular installment doesn't even have a proper ending. Let's hope the series as a whole does.
Three stars.
The Edge of Tomorrow
All told, the latest F&SF merits a drab 2.9 stars, definitely one of the weaker entries of the past year. But every month offers a chance at redemption, and the next issue is only a few weeks away. Will the July issue offer a collection of immortal classics or more of the humdrum same?
The anticipation, waiting to find out, is half the fun!
![[October 6, 1969] The Rule of a Mediocracy (<i>Vision of Tomorrow #3</i>)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/Vision-2.png?resize=362%2C372&ssl=1)
![[August 28, 1969] Aussie-British Publishing (<i>Vision of Tomorrow #1</i>)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/VOT2.jpg?resize=625%2C372&ssl=1)
![[August 16, 1969] Soaring high and low (August 1969 Galactoscope)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/690816covers.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
![[April 16, 1969] The Men from Ipomoea (April 1969 Galactoscope)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/690416covers.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
![[January 14, 1969] Ten for the road (January Galactoscope)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/690114covers.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
![[May 16, 1967] From the Sea to the Stars (May 1967 Galactoscope)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2022/05/670516covers.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
![[January 16, 1967] Off to a Good Start (February 1967 <i>Worlds of Tomorrow</i>)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/Worlds_of_Tomorrow_v04n03_1967-02_0000-2.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
![[November 26, 1966] White Boats, Whales and Disch, <i>New Worlds</i> and <i>SF Impulse</i>, December 1966](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/New-Worlds-SF-Impulse-Dec-1966.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
Illustration by Unknown Artist
Illustration by Keith Roberts- the author!
Illustration by James Cawthorn
![[September 4, 1966] British Science Fiction Lives! (Alien Worlds #1 & New Writings in SF #9)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2021/08/Featured-Image.jpg?resize=332%2C240&ssl=1)
![[May 20, 1966] Things to Come and Things that Are(June 1966 <i>Fantasy and Science Fiction</i>)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/660518cover.jpg?resize=669%2C372&ssl=1)
